Resurgence, A Star Wars Story: Book I: Dawn of the Sith
by Phantom Studios
Summary: For a millenium, the Sith have been thought to be extinct. The Republic grew and prospered in their absense. They flourished. But the Sith do not die. Cut off 1 head, 2 more will take its place. They have waited, preparing for their chance to strike. With armies arrayed against them and the Dark Side unleashed, the Jedi must hold firm. Will anyone survive the Dawn of the Sith?
1. Prologue: City Chase

_Welcome, one and all, to a rather different kind of Star Wars story. This story is a what-if scenario. What if Star Wars took place in our galaxy? With Earth as the capital of a vast Republic? Where the Sith are as numerous as the stars in the sky, striking with a vengeance at their bitter rivals, the Jedi._

 _While it does not contain any connections to the official Star Wars universe, save for elements of the lore and certain adaptations of characters that we have woven into our story, we hope that you will be able to enjoy the story on its own merits, both here and in the sequels that we have planned._

 _(Complete details for the stories we have planned in this series can be found on our page)_

 _Disclaimer: WE DONT OWN STAR WARS_

 _Follow, Favorite, and Review please-Phantom Studios_

 _Resurgence, A Star Wars Story:_

 _Book I:_

 _Dawn of the Sith_

Synopsis

For a millennium, the Sith have been thought extinct. The Galactic Republic grew and prospered in their absence. They flourished. But the Sith do not die. Cut off one head, two more shall take its place. They have waited, preparing for the chance at their ultimate revenge. Now they strike from the depths of history. With an army arrayed against them and the deepest secrets of the Dark Side unleashed, the Jedi must stand firm in the face of the storm. Will anyone survive the Dawn of the Sith?

Character List

Matthew White: Grand Master, Jedi Order (human male)

Caleb Temple: Master of the Order, Jedi Order (human male)

Raymond Shearin: Senior Council Master, Jedi Order (human male)

Maya Temple: Council Master, Jedi Order (human female)

Motodata: Council Master, Jedi Order (human male)

Kiyomasa: Council Master, Jedi Order (human male)

Masamune: Council Master, Jedi Order (human male)

Jacob Haywood: Jedi Spymaster, Jedi Order (human male)

Sylvia White: Jedi Master, Jedi Order (human female)

Alex Argo: Jedi Master, Jedi Order (human male)

Fal Kooru: Jedi Master, Jedi Order (Mirialan male)

Jeremy Temple: Jedi Master, Jedi Order (human male)

Ayrin Beals: Jedi Knight, Jedi Order (human female)

Joshua Cornette: Jedi Knight, Jedi Order (human male)

Taria: Jedi Knight, Jedi Order (Twi'Lek female)

Shia: Jedi Padawan, Jedi Order (Mirialan female)

Eelya: Jedi Padawan, Jedi Order (Twi'Lek female)

Natalie Portlandia: Chancellor, Galactic Republic (human female)

Richard O'Hare: Senior Admiral, Republic Navy (human male)

Zun'Bando'A: Admiral, Republic Navy (Kaminoan male)

David Smith: Admiral, Republic Navy (human male)

Emma Yates: Captain, Republic Navy (human female)

Michael Richards: General, Republic Army (human male)

Wolf: Commander, Republic Army (Clone human male)

Cody: Commander, Republic Army (Clone human male)

Rex: Commander, Republic Army (Clone human male)

Adrienne Fowler: Republic Intelligence Operative, Lieutenant, Galactic Republic (human female)

Tyrannicus: Dark Lord, Member of High Council (human male)

Thren Vari: Sith Lord, Grand Admiral, Sith Empire (Sith male)

Tal Koridan: Sith Lord, Grand Admiral, Sith Empire (human male)

Kornath: Sith Assassin, Adjunct, Sith Empire (Sith male)

Part I

Shadow of the Force

Prologue

City Chase

The sun was shining brightly over Washington DC. A sprawling network of buildings ranging from homes and apartment complexes to businesses and skyscrapers all of which emanated in an almost flower-shape from the White House, the capital of an ancient but well remembered nation called the United States of America. Eight million people of species ranging from humans native to the world to Twi'Leks and Togrutans from the far reaches of the Republic worked and lived there. Most were normal citizens, but many more were military officers, government officials, senators and so on.

DC was merely the capital of Earth, an important role in galactic affairs. But next to it. Oh, next to it was a sight even more grand. The New Coruscant, a circular city that sat on a massive floating disc in Atlantic with a smaller disc jutting into the Chesapeake Bay. The buildings stacked on top of each other, apartments, businesses, government buildings, with vertical and horizontal elevators and trains connecting each network of buildings, linking them all into a vast sprawling web that was the galactic capital.

It was a normal, peaceful day. Just another day to go to work, pay the bills, get some ice cream or perhaps go to the park. Or visit a museum left over from Washington DC's days as the capital of America. No one expected their peaceful day to be disturbed. No one expected to hear the whine of a speeder engine, nor to have to duck in alarm and fright as a landspeeder tore through the streets to the western quarter of the city, where speeders were forbidden. Speeder traffic was strictly kept in the skies, away from walking civilians.

This speeder seemed not to care. Several people screamed. Others shook their fists at the hooligans before checking on their loved ones.

More speeders came blazing in, kicking up dust from the streets and rustling banners and flags. Emblazoned on the sides of each was the circular white and black emblem of the Republic. In the speeders sat men in white armor, their helmeted heads focused on the rogue speeder they were chasing. It was a yellow Mobquet model, open canopy revealing three men dressed in black flight suits.

"Rogue speeder! You are violating traffic laws! Power down and prepare to be taken into custody!" The voice of the lead Clone Trooper was drowned by the roar and whine of the engines. It was not even certain whether the criminals had heard him. Whether they did or not was irrelevant. They continued flying, beginning to shift to the left and right as though they were evading blasterfire. Not one clone opened fire. Their orders were to capture the speeder, not risk killing citizenry or damaging property

The chase took them to a three-way intersection. Directly ahead was a long apartment complex that extended in both directions along the street. The clone driving the speeder increased his speed, attempting to close the gap. It didn't work. Someone in that speeder was desperate.

A little too desperate. With a boom, they flew directly into the apartment. Fire blossomed and both apartment and speeder vanished in the inferno. Smoke billowed. Flames licked the walls and spiraled up high above the rooftop for a brief moment before simmering down. The buildings not hit were shaken, cracks appearing in several.

"Get out! Move it troopers! On the double!" Commander Wolf bellowed at his men. "Get a medical team and an ambulance. NOW!"

The military speeders landed, parking in a semi circle to block off the street. Clones ran out and immediately set to work. Some directed civilians away from the carnage. Others grabbed what fire suppression equipment they had, standard extinguishers issued by command to be carried in speeders at all times, and charged into the wreckage. Wolf commed the military headquarters and informed them of the situation.

Within minutes, more sirens began blaring as ambulances and fire speeders flew up to park within the clone formations. Wolf directed men and women to assist his troops in battling the fire, which had spread to several surrounding apartments. While the fire fighters got to work, the clones began rescuing trapped civilians. Their armor afforded them just as much protection as fire suppression suits, enabling them to stride through flame and smoke without hesitation. Which they did. The people in the apartment hit by the explosion were dead, likely disintegrated or torn apart. But others were now trapped behind debris or hiding in locked rooms in hopes of survival.

Clones battered down doors and shifted debris, herding the terrified families out and to the ambulances where medics draped shock blankets over their shoulders and treated their burns.

As this went on, another, unmarked speeder drove up. The traffic clone's first impulse was to wave it away but then he caught site of the driver and passengers. The driver was a man dressed in black robes with piercing blue/grey eyes and long, dark blonde hair that fell just past his shoulder. His companions were a man with short dark brown hair, with brown eyes and black robes that were almost Samurai in design and another man with long, dark dreadlocks, a fierce countenance and dark grey robes. Matthew White. Caleb Temple. And Raymond Shearin. The leaders of the Jedi Order.

The speeder landed and the Jedi got out. Matthew immediately strode to the nearest clone trooper, his cutlass-styled lightsaber bouncing against his right hip. "Take me to Commander Wolf, please."

"Sir, yes sir!" the trooper barked, snapping to attention before leading the Grand Master to where Wolf was urgently speaking into a comlink.

Meanwhile, Raymond and Caleb grabbed masks and hurried into the nearest fire-fighting zone. The clones did not object. In fact, they welcomed the presence of the Jedi Masters at their side.

"Commander, status report?" Matthew asked calmly. As he waited for the clone to gather his thoughts, he began subtly drawing on the Force, centering himself in it. Calm was needed for this situation. He could sense panic and terror in the air. He cradled the Force to his chest, infusing its power with the calm he needed to feel in order to be the Jedi he knew he was. Then it was released, scattering into the air.

Instantly, the atmosphere seemed to shift. Rapid breathing slowed. Urgent orders were issued in a calmer tone. Crying babies stopped crying and nestled against their mothers.

"Master Jedi," Wolf said evenly. It was no secret he did not like Matthew. They had butted heads continuously during the long Mandalorian War. "A speeder piloted by unknown persons flew through Fifteenth Street and crashed here."

"What do we know about the speeder?"

"Mobquet. We first received reports of it on Nineteenth, near the military outpost in that district. By the time we got troops after it, it was in the civilian sector."

Matthew tilted his head. "Then they were definitely up to something more than normal teenager activities."

"It appears so." Wolf continued his report, but Matthew had already heard all he needed to know. The clones would tell him nothing useful. But the Force could. His eyes remained open, giving the impression he was listening, but in reality his mind was elsewhere. Drawing on the currents of the Force. Matthew pictured the speeder's impact in his mind's eye. The angle of impact, the flames that gushed forth. But something was wrong.

Every Jedi knew that death unbalanced the Force. Few had died here, causing little ripples in the ebb and flow of its currents. But not enough ripples. Not as many as there should have been.

"They're alive."

"What?" Wolf sighed. "Who is?"

"The pilots of the speeder," Matthew said as though it was obvious. "They weren't in the speeder when it crashed?

"How do you know?"

"The Force." With that, Matthew walked away and pulled out his comlink. "Ray! Caleb! We have another situation. The occupants of the speeder are alive. Find them." He layered his words with enough urgency that they got the hint. By the time they had finished whatever task they were currently engaged with, Matthew had already powered up the speeder.

They ran and got in. "What's this about?" Caleb didn't bother with his seatbelt. Nor did Raymond.

Matthew took off, taking the speeder high above the buildings. There had been enough terrorizing for one day. "The speeder's pilots were seen near the military outpost."

"They aren't just reckless idiots. They wanted something. They were escaping."

It was the simplest explanation. While Matthew flew, Caleb began seeking out with the Force. The only way to track down these pilots before they escaped into the millions of people in Washington DC was to find their auras, read their thoughts. To hope that they could find them, three minds among thousands.

To Caleb, reality became a blur. The bodies of his fellow Jedi seemed almost unreal, as though he existed in a world that they did not share a part of. He was open to thought. Emotion. It blazed through the Force. He accepted it and shifted aside the distractions to find what he sought. Worry about the bills, anger at a boss, irritation at an expensive product, all this became a jumble, a meaningless blur that Caleb pushed through until he found what he sought.

Exhilaration. Tinged with fear, but also with malice. Three signatures with these emotions. Moving fast. And in different directions. "Matt, they've split up."

Matthew nodded acknowledgement. "Which way."

Caleb stood up. The speeder immediately jolted and Matthew turned the wheel hard to the other side to compensate. "We split up. Raymond, you go right. You'll know him when you find him." Then Caleb leapt, summoning the Force. He let it flow through him, effortlessly turning his body into a somersault that ended with him landing in the center of the road. Raymond landed a split second later, bounding eagerly forwards.

Passersby gave them nervous looks. It was rare to see a Jedi in action. For four years peace had reigned in the Republic. And in the capital especially no one dared to disturb that peace. Very few people had seen a Jedi in action unless one counted Holonet newsfeeds every now and then.

They ignored them and ran, bolstering their speed with the Force. Caleb went one way, Raymond another. Down a side street he went, twisting and turning through alleyways that emerged onto another street. Some citizens cursed under their breath as he pushed through them. Ahead of him, he could sense the sudden fear that spiked in the Force. It wasn't just apprehension at seeing a Jedi in action. This was fear. The knowledge that he was now the hunted and the hunter was rapidly closing in. Raymond could sense his speed pick up in desperation.

It took a second for him to spot the criminal. The man did not blend in with the crowd. It was almost comical. His black flight suit and the way he moved, pushing aside people in his haste to find a vehicle. Raymond grinned and slipped into the crowd. When the man turned, he saw nothing but civilians. With Force-enhanced sight, Raymond saw his brow furrow in concentration.

What was interesting was the way the Jedi Master suddenly felt he was being watched and the sense of darkness that accompanied it. The realization hit him like a brick. This criminal had Force training. How this was possible, Raymond didn't know. Who could have trained him? Surely not any of the Grey Jedi cells that existed throughout the Republic and Lawless space. They had no motivation to attack the Republic.

Shrugging, Raymond decided he would figure this out later. His dreadlocks swung back and forth as he picked up speed. With a snap-hiss, his lightsaber sprang to life. People on either side of him gasped or shrieked, ducking away from the white blade. As the blade extended, he sprang into motion, leaping high and somersaulting to land in front of the criminal.

He appeared young, early twenties at most. The face barely had any stubble and a visor that wrapped around the back of his head concealed the man's eyes.

"Stand down." The lightsaber he pointed left no room for argument. Raymond would either take him down or kill him. Obviously, taking him alive would be preferable. He hoped that it wouldn't come down to a fight to the death.

The man looked at him. Resignation was in his eyes. "No point running anymore."

Raymond cocked a brow. "Then why did you try?'

The man shrugged. "Thought it might work. Crazy plan."

Raymond sighed and deactivated his lightsaber. He still kept a wary hand raised, ready to freeze him in place with telekinesis if he tried to escape. But the man didn't. No escape attempt was made as the Jedi cuffed him and led him through the streets to where Wolf was still battling the fires. It was nearly put out by now, and most of the civilians had been transferred to the medical center.

Clones took him into custody, shoving him into a speeder and guarding him with raised blaster rifles. Raymond watched him from afar and thoughtfully rubbed his chin. He had a feeling that there was more going on here than met the eye.

Caleb leapt from rooftop to rooftop in hot pursuit of a long-legged, very nimble criminal. Above them, circling like a vulture, the speeder Matthew piloted flew. Caleb knew he was searching for the third man responsible for the explosion. From what they could sense, the two tried to separate, but remain close enough together to help each other if needed.

The man he was chasing leapt down, grabbing onto an insulated power line stretching from one house to another. It snapped, the forward momentum swinging him through a window. Without hesitating, Caleb leapt after him. The window was narrow, the sharp edges of glass providing an extra danger. He spun in midair, igniting his lightsaber in a whirling motion designed to cut the glass away and landed lightly on his feet, spinning up

Blasterfire rang through the air as deadly bolts of orange streaked towards him. Caleb swung his yellow blade, batting the bolts harmlessly into the floor. In front of him stood his quarry, holding the gun to a small child's neck.

"Drop the weapon, Jedi." The man's voice was gravelly and he pressed the muzzle of the gun deeper into the child's neck as the Bith child whimpered and tried to pull away. But the man's grip was too strong and the child ended up crying out in pain.

With a glare, Caleb dropped the lightsaber.

"Good." The criminal smirked and stepped back, heading to the front door. He didn't get far. In a whirl of black robes, the Grand Master surged through the door and aimed a kick at his knee joint. With an angry cry, the criminal staggered and pulled the trigger on the blaster. If not for Matthew quickly sweeping the man's legs out from under him, the bolt would've blown a hole through the child's head.

A disturbance in the Force alerted Caleb to the danger a split second before a grenade blast tore the wall apart. As he flew through the air, propelled by a shockwave, he saw Matthew grab the child and shield her with his body, protecting the small one from the debris and shielding himself with the Force. They both hit the wall, Matthew spinning to gently push the child into the nearest closet and Caleb surging forwards in a blur of motion to intercept the blaster bolt that had followed the explosion. With no lightsaber, he reached out with the Force and willed the bolt to freeze. It did, a sizzling, crackling orange light that seemed to hang suspended in midair.

Meanwhile, Matthew sprang forwards, his lightsaber weaving a blue arc that deflected several follow-up shots. The shooter took off running, leaping from rooftop to rooftop on the other side of the street. Caleb released the bolt and followed after making sure the family was ok.

Summoning the Force, Matthew sprang high, leaping and twisting to bring his lightsaber down at his adversary's shoulder. He had been intending to nick him, make him pause long enough to take him down, but somehow the blow was anticipated. Somehow the criminal dodged the strike and spun, his leg out in a roundhouse kick. The Grand Master threw his head back to avoid and crouched low. When the attack failed and he was off balanced, Matthew rushed him, spinning his lightsaber around his body to create a deadly blur of energy. They both ducked and weaved around each other, looking for weaknesses. Matthew struck first, moving so fast he was a blur. The criminal didn't stand a chance. He fell like a sack of potatoes under the impact of Matthew's fist.

"Ray apprehended the third one. That's all of them," Caleb told him.

Matthew had not seen him approach. The Jedi could be sneaky when he wanted to be. "Good. Let's get these to the outpost. Wolf can decide what to do with them." He turned his gaze on the unconscious man, a Mirialan, and wondered what he was. Force sensitive. Some sort of mercenary?

He was jerked out of his reverie by Caleb nudging him hard in the ribs. Glancing up, he saw that military and medical speeders had arrived. Oh right...grenade explosion. That would tend to draw attention. One wouldn't even have to read Wolf's Force aura to sense his anger. Even though the white helmet masked his face, the way he carried himself and barked orders spoke of anger.

Sighing, Matthew leaped down, landing lightly with the regality expected of a Grand Master right in front of the clone. "Commander." He nodded respectfully.

"What's this, Jedi?" Wolf snapped.

"Well, we call this arresting."

Wolf's Force aura crackled with irritation. "Next time keep the grenades to a minimum. I've got too much work to do as it is without cleaning up a Jedi's mess." He turned and strode away, then paused to glance over his shoulder. "In the speeder. Standard procedure to get a report from any involved. That includes Jedi."

Matthew knew this, but scowled anyways, disliking being addressed like some incompetent civilian. He swallowed his irritation and got in the speeder with Caleb.

"Wolf seems cheerful." Caleb rolled his eyes. "Does that soldier even smile?"

"Nope."

A trooper got in and powered up the speeder. He flew over the tops of the buildings and joined the sky traffic, making tight turns from lane to lane. The journey lasted briefly, with none of them speaking, not even with the speeder touched down on the roof of the outpost.

Instantly, both Jedi got the sense something was wrong. Raymond's agitation blazed through the Force. Matthew got out of the speeder and immediately saw why. The door had been blasted off its hinges. A thin trail of smoke trickled out from inside.

Caleb and Matthew exchanged glances and stepped towards the door. "Trooper," Matthew called over his shoulder. "Get Wolf. Tell him the outpost has been attacked." Then they went in.

The first thing they found was the smell. It was a smell of death, of charred flesh and of smoke. Here and there were bodies of clones and officers. Some had been shot only once, others had been riddled with blaster fire until there was hardly any way to recognize them as having once been alive.

At the command center, Raymond was attempting to get a computer working. Soon as he entered, Caleb moved to help, rewiring several key circuits. Raymond proceeded to punch the computer. To their surprise, it whirred to life and a grey loading screen appeared.  
Matthew suppressed a snort. He shrugged when Raymond shot him a look and went back to looking for survivors. He moved cautiously, wary of remaining traps, or a survivor he might miss if he was being to quick. Finally, his senses picked up a faint moan. "Who's there?"

The moan came again. Someone was in pain. No, not just pain. This one was dying. It came from the left. Matthew whirled and found a pair of legs sticking out from under a burnt terminal. "Hang on!" He ran forwards and used the Force to lift the terminal off the clone. "We got you." He knew it was an empty promise and felt guilt settle in his gut. No matter how many he had seen like this, Matthew always felt guilty.

But a small smile graced the wounded clones face before he coughed up blood. "Master...Jedi." Another cough, blood trickled down the corners of his mouth. Matthew helped him sit up. He had mere moments to live.

"Trooper, can you tell me what happened?"

The clone seemed to realize he was beyond saving and nodded. "Mercenaries...Attacked. Caught us...By surprise." He shuddered and moaned in pain. By now, Caleb and Raymond had halted trying to reboot the computer and walked over to hear. "Didn't...Stand a chance...and the...leader." He broke off.

"Yes?" Matthew prompted him gently.

"Red...blade. Moved...like a blur...Sent men flying...wave...of hand..."

That sent shock through Matthew's mind. Red blade. And capable of wielding the Force? The only Force wielders that wielded red lightsabers were long gone. It could not be. It was not possible.

"Thank you, Trooper," Caleb murmured.

The clone gave one last gasping cough and went still. His eyes stared at Matthew without seeing. Sightless. Lifeless. Each Jedi contemplated what they had just been told in silence until Wolf arrived with more men. Something was at play. Something sinister.


	2. Chapter 1: Elusive Darkness

Chapter 1

Elusive Darkness

As much as he knew hiding out was necessary, Kornath really questioned his associate's taste in hiding places. The rundown cabin located in what was known as the Amazon Rainforests was infested with spiders, moldy and smelled damp. The heat was terrible. Bugs were everywhere. For the tenth time that day, Kornath wished for the cold of Korriban. It was better for his dark red skin.

He bent over his boot, his red face tendrils dangling. A spider looked back at him. Ugh. With a flick of his wrist, Kornath sent the spider flying across the room and crushed it against the wall. Scowling, he got up and headed to the tiny section of the cabin that was categorized as the kitchen. His associates, A'Ren and Tol, had managed to find some wild plants.

Sighing, Kornath turned away and faced the wall, willing himself to not punch the two. They had managed to burn lunch. The idiots! Kornath fought the rage building within him, knowing alerting the Jedi to his presence would be a bad idea. At the time though, he found it difficult to care. He was very particular about the state of his food. Not what he ate, he could eat almost anything edible on any world if it would further his missions, but it had to be edible. NOT BURNT!

"Problem?" A'Ren said, sensing the leader's irritation.

Kornath slowly turned. A'Ren and Tol exchanged nervous glances before backing away as he advanced. "You. Complete. Morons. You call this food?!" He lashed out, kicking the pot off the stove and towards them.

The two humans yelped as the pot spun through the air, the plant stew falling on them. Steam rose off them as they hissed and cringed at the pain.

"Make it again. And this time do it right."

"Master, that was all of it."

Once again, Kornath wished that his superiors had assigned him to work alone. He would have been off of Earth already if that was the case. But no. He had to be saddled with the two most incompetent beings in the galaxy. Before he snapped and killed them both he stormed outside. The sun shone through the canopy of leaves and trees. It was almost beautiful. If not for the bugs and heat, Kornath would consider staying longer.

Almost. He had better things to worry about. Like the data chip in his chest pocket. If it was discovered by Republic forces, all would be lost. Barely aware of where he was going, he stalked through the trees, leaping over trunks and ducking low hanging branches. His rage built within him. The creatures around him sensed it and seemed to shrink away in fright at the entity that moved forth, guided only by his senses.

Let the idiots struggle to keep up. He was getting out of this hell. The rest of the crew was in Los Angeles, or had been at the last communication. If Kornath could acquire a speeder and enough fuel, they could be there by tomorrow evening.

The village two kilometers away would do nicely. Kornath guided his footsteps in that direction and fingered the ridged hilt of his lightsaber in anticipation. It would reveal his presence to the Jedi. But he needed some stress relief.

As predicted, the Chancellor was not happy about the events of the day. Wolf had drafted the report himself, against Matthew's wishes. However, it was not the report that angered the Chancellor. It was the nature of it. This blatant violation of peace right on her front door. People had died. The Chancellor was a good woman and a better leader. The deaths struck a nerve.

Once she had taken time to calm down and collect her thoughts she called a meeting of the present military leaders to discuss the situation next morning. Commander Wolf, Admiral Robert O'Hare, General Michael Richards and Matthew White. Wolf and Richards were both directly in charge of ground security on Earth, while O'Hare was in charge of the fleet garrison. Last but not least, Matthew, as Grand Master of the Jedi Order, had a large say in military affairs. He was also a trusted friend of the Chancellor and one of the few who could address her by name. Though of course, he rarely did so.

Said Jedi was presently behind schedule. Not the best way to start the morning, but traffic had been bad. Repair crews had caused considerable inconveniences as several sky lanes had been blocked off in order to facilitate repairs. Fortunately, due to Cybertronian technology, the repairs would not take long and the blockage would be cleared, likely before nightfall. But in the meantime it made his journey to the military headquarter division of the Senate building in New Coruscant rather troublesome.

In retrospect, Matthew realized he should've listened to his wife while he leaned back in his seat. The sky-bus was currently stalling, its repulsorlifts humming a slow melody that threatened to put him to sleep. Sylvia had told him to take their family speeder through downtown, where there was no traffic jams, but Matthew had been in a hurry and flagged down the first sky-bus he saw. Oh well.

The opportunity was perfect for him to practice his Jedi patience. He closed his eyes, drawing on the Force, centering himself in its calm. Despite the agitation of the passengers around him, the fear in the atmosphere, he was at peace.

When at last the sky-bus landed at the Senate complex's landing pad, Matthew got out and practically flew inside. His watch showed him to be at least ten minutes late. Not bad, all things considered. People cast him strange glances, some muttering. Matthew could sympathize. The Grand Master running through hallways and narrowly avoiding bumping into walls or people was bound to turn some heads. But the situation could not be helped. That meeting was more important than some low level political aide's opinion.

As he approached the door to the meeting room, he slowed to a more respectable level. A snap of his fingers and the double doors slid open. He strode confidently in, robes billowing behind him.

"Master White," Chancellor Natalie Portlandia said gravely, her face betraying little reaction. "You're late."

Matthew ignored the disapproving glances of Wolf, Richards, O'Hare and some of the others in the room as he strode to his seat. "Sorry, Madam Chancellor. Traffic delayed me."

"As I'm well aware." The ghost of a smile played about her lips. Matthew guessed that Sylvia had commed ahead and told her that he would be late. He made a face at the thought before remembering where he was and pulling himself together. Hands resting in his lap, shoulders back, chest out.

As Natalie called the meeting to order once again, Matthew mostly listened. Wolf had brought several clone Captains. Richards had brought several of his adjuncts of varying ranks. O'Hare had brought the Captains and First Officers of the senior ships in the system. All in all, about five dozen sat around the large circular conference table. All discussed various methods of tracking down the criminals responsible for shooting up the outpost. The urgency of this was dire. Early in the morning, technicians had reported evidence of a computer breach. Thousands of megabytes of data had been downloaded. As disturbing as this was, it was what had been downloaded that should make every military man and woman in the Republic go cold from fear. Data. Troop movements, fleet deployments, personnel rosters, security protocols, tactics. Anyone in possession of this Intel could lay waste to the Republic military within months.

Ideas ranged from patrol ships scanning every city within a thousand kilometer radius down to the very pots on the stoves to laying a standard blockade formation and waiting for them to try to leave the planet. Why? Because no one with vital military intelligence would stay on a world actively hunting them.

When this was brought up, Captain James Walter raised an important question. "Who would want such Intel anyways?"

Silence fell. Everyone contemplated the question. Heads turned. Noses were scratched. Jaws clenched. Side conversations began to break out between those situated at the table as those who had speculations sought to share them with their comrades in hushed whispers.

"Currently we don't know," Matthew informed him, raising his voice to cut through the background noise.

Wolf snorted. "That much is clear, Jedi. Evidently the Force has not seen fit to tell you these things."

Matthew shot him a cold look. "The Force does not work that way, as you should be well aware Commander Wolf."

The clone glowered at him, brown eyes blazing. Heads turned from Jedi to clone and back as though following a tennis game. "Perhaps the Force is not as powerful as you say it is."

"Enough." Natalie's calm, but stern voice cut through the room like a knife through butter before Matthew could reply. "That will be enough Commander. I'm sure the Jedi are doing everything they can to discover who these criminals are and what they want with our Intel." At this she shot Matthew a pointed look. He nodded to show he understood what she meant. She wanted his men on that case, not Wolf's. "But as that may be, I will not tolerate harsh words being directed at each other in this room. From anyone." Her gaze swept the table. "You will conduct yourself in a respectful manner to your fellow comrades. All of you."

Some officers shifted uncomfortably in their seats and cast sidelong glances at their fellows. Even in militaries, not everyone could be expected to get along.

Sighing, the Chancellor continued. "It does appear that the we must each work separately on what needs to be done. The Jedi will track down those responsible for this catastrophe. Admiral O'Hare, I want your men to blockade Earth."

The grizzled Admiral looked up from his datapad. "Ma'am?"

"You heard me. Blockade the planet. Search all ships leaving from all ports. If they try to escape the planet, I want you to seize whatever ship they may be on and all those aboard."

"What if it's a civilian ship? Or a cargo vessel?"

"Seize it. If the crews are working with the criminals, arrest them. If not, let them go with your full apologies, Admiral. Am I clear?"

O'Hare nodded. As the Chancellor turned to Wolf and Richards, he began consulting the Captain next to him. They began a whispered conversation that Matthew glanced at for a second before returning his attention to the Chancellor's words. Natalie was a strong, courageous woman and it was at moments like these that Matthew admired her. She was a tough, no nonsense kind of leader who took no disrespect, but in turn respected those under her command. She was competent, well versed in political, economic and military matters. In other words, the perfect leader for the newly reformed Galactic Republic.

When she finished, she sat down to allow the military men in the room to decide how best to carry out her orders. O'Hare and the Captains nearest him began calling up holographic maps from the projector in the center of the table. Diagrams showing formations appeared one after the other. Beside this, registries and data lines showing ship after ship appeared. O'Hare tapped some and shifted them to the side. Matthew identified them as ships either not currently at Earth or under maintenance. The others, at least three-dozen, were assigned to a loose blockade formation that was designed to cut off most of the major routes in and out of the planet. Ports like Madrid, London, Los Angeles, DC, New Coruscant, Boston, Moscow, Berlin and Paris were the most heavily covered as they were the most influential trade and civilian stops on the planet.

Meanwhile, Richards and O'Hare accessed another projector and began projecting search patterns and troop deployments.

Matthew allowed himself a smile. This was the Republic in action. This was the surest way to ensure peace. All branches of the military, Army, Navy and Jedi all working at what they did best. The Army was best for defense and swift operations on the ground. The Navy was better suited towards maintaining security in space, sometimes to provide backup to the Army on the ground. And the Jedi were better suited towards investigations, infiltrations and on occasion being one man armies.

Speaking of investigations. He picked up a spare data pad lying on the table and called up a list of active Jedi. Of those Jedi, fifty were currently at Earth. The rest were scattered throughout the thousands of worlds in the Republic. A thousand Jedi currently existed and operated with the Republic's borders. There were perhaps a hundred Masters left over from the end of the Mandalorian War, when Matthew, Caleb and Raymond had reformed the Jedi Order and Natalie had reformed the Republic. The rest of the Order, not counting the couple hundred younglings, comprised of Knights and Padawans. Matthew could not deny he was proud of the Order they had built. Each of their Jedi was trained to reach the highest possible potential they could.

Matthew scrolled through the list, deft taps of his finger removing names from the list. Each name corresponded to a Jedi who was elsewhere. The remaining Jedi, he checked their qualifications, eventually narrowing it down to two Masters. Smiling to himself, he pulled his comlink out of the pocket in his robes and sent a text message to Caleb. It read: _Get Masters Argo and Kooru. Tell them they have a mission of great importance._

He did not wait for Caleb to reply, instead choosing to put the pad down and focus his attentions on the other conversations. Most of the conversations seemed to be coming to a close. Natalie was packing up her papers and datapads. "Well, this has been interesting," she told the group. "I'm glad we could all set aside our differences and work together. I expect results in three days." She stood, smiling.

In the same moment, Matthew stood, frowning. "Madam Chancellor, a word if I may?"

She gave him a curious look, noting his frown and immediately knowing something was wrong. She nodded "Outside."

He stepped aside to allow her to pass him and she swept past him. He followed her out into the corridor. When the door hissed shut she turned to him. "What is it, Master Jedi?"

Matthew took that to mean he was to address her formally. Made sense. They were in the Senate after all. At any moment a politician or an adjunct of one could walk past. It wouldn't do to allow them to hear the Grand Master and the Chancellor speaking on first name basis. "Chancellor, I believe you must know something."

"Yes?" she prodded, picking up on his unease.

"When we were at the outpost there was a trooper," Matthew told her, choosing his words with great care. "He, um, well, he told us he saw something." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "Before he moved on."

"What was it?"

"A red blade."

She tilted her head, not understanding. "What significance does that hold?"

"I don't know. But the only kind of blades I know to have different colorations are those of lightsabers."

"Are you telling me you think a Jedi might be behind this?" She sounded shocked. Not that Matthew could blame her. She had after all just assigned the Jedi to track down the people who shot up the outpost.

He shook his head. "No. Not a Jedi. At least, not one of ours."

"Explain."

"When we forged the Order anew, some were hesitant. Others simply refused to join. They went their own ways, traveling their own paths. They created their own smaller Orders, or operated alone. Since we do not keep track of each group or individual, it is possible that some may have lost their way and fallen to the darkness."

Natalie took in every word, her eyebrows rising higher and higher until they almost seemed to disappear into her receding hairline. "Are you saying one of these...these rogues is responsible?" Matthew did not have to look into her Force aura to see her anger and confusion. It was in her eyes. More specifically, behind her eyes, hidden behind the calm politician's mask she adopted when in public.

"Not rogues. Greys. And no, Madam Chancellor. I'm saying it is a possibility. One you should be aware of."

"Very well." She straightened her body slightly, releasing the tense posture she had been in. "Thank you for telling me. If that's all, I'll let you get to work." She gave him a small smile and walked back into the meeting room to gather her things.

Matthew sighed, leaning against the wall for a moment. What was at play here? The presence of a Force wielder changed things, making events far more unclear. None of the Grey Jedi in the galaxy had any reason and few, if any, motives to attack the Republic. So who was this red bladed attacker? This question and more buzzed through his brain, distracting him. He stared blankly at the opposite wall, not really seeing it.

The door opening him jolted him out of his thoughts. As Wolf marched past him without once glancing at him, he decided to leave. The answers to his questions would not be found standing here. Speaking of which. A glance at his comlink showed a reply form Caleb. The Master had already dispatched the two Jedi on the assignment. Matthew allowed himself a smile. Hopefully answers would come soon.

Sadly, the Grand Master's hopes would not be fulfilled. After several hours of sorting through intelligence reports, security cam footage, interviewing witnesses and many other ideas, neither Alex Argo nor his Mirialan companion Fal Kooru had any leads. The only witnesses were of the speeder exploding when it hit the buildings. Somehow, there were no witnesses of the battle at the outpost, nor of any suspicious persons entering or leaving. Not one. The security cams at the outpost had been destroyed, but there was some footage recorded before they had been. It showed what looked like a team of mercenaries entering, opening fire on the unsuspecting clones, gunning most down. As the retaliation began, another man entered. Most of the cameras had been destroyed at this point, but one still worked.

What was interesting about this man was the way he carried himself. With assuredness and confidence. He was clearly the leader. The mercenaries had hastened to get out of his way, spreading out around the command center. Blaster fire flew back and forth, blue and green bolts of light sizzling holes in walls and consoles.

In a flash, he was moving, a blur of black robes. A crimson saberstaff ignited, flashing, slashing. Within seconds half a dozen clones were dead from sizzling stab wounds or brutal fully body slices. Then, he glanced at the camera, somehow knowing it was still online despite not having glanced once in its direction prior to then.

The camera had suddenly deactivated, leaving the two Jedi staring at a blank screen. Both sat there without moving for at least a full minute before they, well, Alex recovered. Being known for his renowned sense of ease, he jolted Fal out of his thoughts with a quip. "Least he knows what he's doing."

Fal shot him an incredulous look. "Of all times to make jokes..."

"That wasn't a joke," Alex replied, pretending to look affronted. "I was genuinely complimenting our mysterious foe on his skill. It'll be a challenge I bet when we finally catch him."

"One lone Rogue against two Masters?" Fal raised a skeptical brow. "Challenge is a bit much."

"Whatever."

Fal sighed and checked his computer. Ever since taking the assignment, his inbox had been flooded by information from various sources. Most of it was gibberish, false sightings from people desperate either to make a quick buck or from terrified citizens who had honestly thought they had seen the culprits.

As he scrolled through the list, the information became a blur. The faster he scrolled, the more he processed. Random bits jumped out at him to be filed away for future use. Just in case. The rest he deleted. Just when he was about to finish another email popped up. A soft ding sounded from the computer. Fal sighed and was about to delete it when something stopped him. Some gut instinct. No. He stared at the email. This was no gut instinct. This was the Force. Instead of pressing delete he tapped the icon, bringing the email to a larger focus.

"Alex..."

The younger Master picked up on the worry in his companion's tone. In a flash he was looking over Fal's shoulder. "What?" His gaze fell on the email. A recording of smoke rolling up from a village in the Amazon met him. The data beneath it had one mention of a red-bladed warrior causing the chaos.

The two Jedi didn't have to exchange words. All it took was a glance to know they were on the same page. They bolted from the room, racing to the nearest hangar to find speeders.

By the time the two Jedi arrived at the village, what met them was a mess. Fires blazed, licking up homes, sending smoke billowing up. The acrid taste left in the Jedi's mouths made them cough as they strode through it, their eyes darting left and right for signs of anything out of place. A survivor, a piece of salvageable equipment, perhaps a trace of those responsible for the carnage. Nothing. Every now and then, a body was strewn on the ground. Alex hastened to examine some. "Dead." He confirmed sadly after pressing a hand to their necks and feeling no pulses.

Fal rolled one body over gently. "Alex. Look." He pointed at the woman's chest.

Alex glanced over, wondering what his comrade was talking about and felt the air vanish as though all breath had been sucked from his body. Shock paralyzed him in place for nearly a full second before he was able to compose himself and master his own breathing. "That...It's a..."

A deep slash had been made in the woman's torso. From the left shoulder to right hip, her body almost seemed to have been split apart. To a Jedi, who had survived the Mandalorian War and seen many gruesome injuries similar, this wasn't much of a shock. But at the edges of the wounds, where cauterization had occurred, was the most disturbing. The only weapon known to exist that could cause that kind of burn damage and instantly cauterize was a lightsaber.

"Our Rogue for sure."

"What was he after?" Alex replied.

Fal looked around, taking in the devastation. Buildings blasted apart, fires raging, bodies and debris in the streets. The village was small, no strategic or military value. Nothing worth taking. "I wish I knew. What would cause him to target these people?"

His fellow Master cocked a brow. "Perhaps they had something that could help him escape? He must know all of Earth is hunting him."

"What could be way out here in the middle of nowhere though?"

In answer, a menacing snap-hiss sounded from Alex's left. As he turned, a crimson blur swung towards him. He threw his head back to avoid it and spun downwards. His assailant sprang back, somersaulting away.

"Stand down!" Fal was already in motion, leaping after him with his lightsaber in hand. The green blade illuminated his face as he twirled it in a pattern designed to ward off any attacks.

Instead of attacking, the mystery assailant spun away, leaping over a tree trunk. His saberstaff glowed just as bright as Fal's blade, but a deep burning crimson instead of green. It clashed horribly with the dark red skin. Neither Fal nor Alex had any idea what species this man was. He was clearly no Grey Jedi. His Force aura blazed with the raging infernos of the Dark Side.

Alex and Fal exchanged glances. The man moved with deft precision and fluidity, his skill evident in every twirl and arc of his blade. They moved forwards, lightsabers held in high guard stances. The mysterious foe smirked at them, seeming to mock their caution. Alex was the first to charge, swinging his blade up then transitioning into a low powerful sweep that the Dark Sider leapt over. Crimson blades spun, whirling around Alex's face. He ducked, retracting his own lightsaber and raising it so that the lower blade near the simplistic hilt caught the attack, blue meeting crimson in a crackle of heat and energy. The man pressed his blade forward, using all his strength to try to force Alex's blade into his chest.

Before Alex could assess his options, the Dark Sider slammed a foot into his abdomen. He went down coughing, the wind knocked out of him. The satisfaction in his opponent was evident in the Force. The Dark Sider raised his blade.

Just before he could deal the killing blow, Fal lunged. His movements were more precise and fluid than Alex's, catching the Dark Sider off guard. They advanced and retreated in sync. Red and green collided, broke apart, then collided again. The Dark Sider was strong, far stronger than the Jedi had anticipated. Reevaluating his tactics, Fal reverted to standard defensive sequences, doing his best to redirect the powerful blows. The Dark Sider was good at bringing both blades to bear, attacking with one then immediately swinging the other around and attacking again. Fal fell back, parrying and sidestepping. His calculating mind memorized each sequence and blow, noting weaknesses. The rage in his opponent was growing the longer the conflict went on. The Jedi's staunch defense only added to this.

As Alex regained his footing, the Dark Sider unleashed his anger. This time Alex was ready and braced himself in the Force as the wave slammed into him. The Darkness passed over and around without touching his skin, but the impact sent him flying into the nearest tree. Fal was knocked aside, unharmed but dazed.

A moment passed. Both Jedi expected to feel a heat at their neck, a last moment of life before the crimson blade snatched their life away. But it never came. Instead, they heard the roar of a speeder engine. "No!" Alex jumped up, Fal only a split second after him. Their enemy had leapt onto their speeder, smirked over his shoulder at them, then gunned the engine. He was gone before either Jedi could reach out and grab their speeder through the Force.

There was a pause. A long, very awkward silence. They deactivated their lightsabers, not looking at each other. "So..." Alex began but Fal cut him off.

"Not a word. We're going to tell Master White and let him decide what to do."

"That was actually what I was going to say."

Fal rolled his eyes and pulled out his comlink. With one click, he opened a private channel on a Jedi frequency. He kept his tone carefully neutral. "Master. Master White." He paused, listening to the crackle of static. Then, Matthew's voice came through.

"Yes. Fal?" The Mirialan suppressed the urge to sigh. As a by-the-book Jedi, he preferred to address and be addressed by rank. "What happened?"

"We encountered the man responsible for the destruction of the outpost."

"And?" Matthew was unable to keep the hesitation and partial elation from his tone.

Alex cut in when Fal paused to consider his answer. "He escaped, Master. He is more than a mere Rogue. His power exceeds what we were expecting and he is clearly a servant of the Dark Side."

There was a long pause. A small bloom of shock in the Force emanating from the general direction of New Coruscant. The only sound was of leaves rustling in the wind, birds chirping, creatures moving in the trees. And of static on the comm. Alex drew in a long breath, awaiting the Jedi Master's reply.

"Where is he now?"

"Unclear. He stole our speeder," Fal said irritably.

Alex cleared his throat. "We could use someone to pick us up."

"I will dispatch a speeder to your location," Matthew replied. "Thank you for informing me, gentlemen." The line went dead, leaving an awkward silence.

"So," Alex said after a very long pause. He shifted his feet and dug his hands into the pocket of his dirt-stained cloak. "What now?"

Fal sighed irritably and sat cross-legged in the grass. "We wait."

Alex did the same as Fal closed his eyes. The two breathed slowly, inhaling and exhaling in a peaceful rhythm. The Force flowed through and around them, seeming to unify them with the life around them. Every inhale drew the Force in from the very air itself, every exhale released the Force back into the environment. There they remained until a Republic speeder arrived.

The trooper piloting the white and grey speeder didn't look at the Jedi as they boarded. Almost as soon as they sat down, the clone engaged the repulsorlift engine and took off, rising over the trees as quick as he dared. Branches hit them on the way up, leaves brushed against them due to the exposed canopy. Occasionally they heard the indignant squawk of a bird as they tore past a nest. Once above the trees, the clone gunned the engine and flew towards the nearest traffic lane leading towards DC.

Sylvia met Caleb outside the Chancellor's office. The wise master was pacing, his anxiousness blazing in his Force aura. Sylvia slipped up behind him. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Caleb did not turn. He had obviously sensed her approach through his thoughts. When he spoke she could hear the smile in his voice, and also the tension. "The Chancellor isn't happy with Matthew."

Her brow furrowed. "How come?"

Caleb sat on one of the waiting benches lining the hallway. Sylvia understood the gesture and sat beside him. "Masters Argo and Kooru engaged the man responsible for the outpost." He paused, gathering his thoughts. Sylvia listened attentively. That was one quality she valued immensely. Her ability to care for others problems. "He escaped. Into the Amazon."

"Ah," Sylvia cut in. "Natalie is upset with Matthew because she trusted the Jedi."

"Precisely."

The Council Master sighed heavily. Silence fell between them. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, despite the tension. Caleb and Sylvia were close friends. She glanced at him, trying to read him. She knew the situation had put a strain on her husband. She saw him every day, had talked to him about that exact thing. She knew he had a hard time accepting a Jedi was capable of this action. Caleb however, was more guarded with his thoughts and feelings. She could not read him just by looking at him and using the Force to probe his aura was out of the question. So she settled for looking away and letting her mind wander.

She wondered how her beautiful children, Jack and Erica, were faring in their classes. Both possessed enormous raw power, the typical of Jedi families for children of Jedi to inherit their parent's Force potential. But due to Matthew's status as Grand Master and her own as a former member of the Council, her children's power was greater than that of most students. As such, many Jedi both student and master, had higher expectations of them. This was something that pained Sylvia and sometimes even caused her to resent her fellow Jedi for burdening her children so.

Sighing, she pulled her thoughts away, determined not to dwell on negative feelings for other members of her Order. Thoughts of the crimson-bladed murderer crept into her mind. Who might he be? What might he be? Was he a Jedi gone dark? Or was he something far worse?

"What Alex and Fal described was far worse. His Force aura blazed with evil." Caleb had turned his head, looking at her now. Sylvia felt her breath catch in her and avoided his gaze. She hadn't meant to let her thoughts leak out like that. "It's ok. Even a Master cannot shield her thoughts all the time."

She chuckled. "Yeah, I guess."

The door to the office opened with a hiss. Matthew strode out, Force aura blazing with irritation. He caught sight of Caleb and his beloved wife. Before they could ask, he said through gritted teeth. "We're off the case."

They sat there, staring blankly at him for a full ten seconds before the weight of the words hit them. They were off the case. The Jedi were off the case. A case involving rogue Dark Siders.

"That's..." Caleb couldn't think of a good enough word to describe how he felt about the situation.

Fortunately, Sylvia had recovered quicker. "Utterly stupid!" Matthew nodded sadly, his anger slipping away and his facial expression losing its snarl-like countenance as she continued. "We're the most powerful group in the Republic. If anyone could bring this monster to justice, it's us."

"Try telling that to the Chancellor, love." Her husband's words were laced with bitterness and he cast an irritable glance over his shoulder at the office. The door had hissed shut. Natalie would be unable to hear them. Though, the security cameras watching the entry to her office probably could.

Sylvia put a hand on Matthew's cheek. "Hey, it'll be ok. Let's discuss this at the Praxeum." Beside her, Caleb nodded in agreement. "I promise it'll be ok." She smiled in response to Matthew's skeptical expression. Finally he sighed and offered her his arm. She took it and her smile grew happy. "After you, Caleb," the Jedi Master said, smirking at her friend.

The aforementioned Jedi smirked at the couple and strode in front of them. As they followed, Matthew and Sylvia linked hands, the touch sending a happy jolt through Sylvia's fingertips, up her arm. A small sigh escaped her.

It did not escape her notice that as soon as their fingers touched, Matthew's step became different. When he was angry, he moved with fast, long strides accompanied by often-flaring eyes. But now, he moved with smaller steps. A small smile curved his lips.

They went to the landing platform. Matthew and Caleb had parked at one end of the rectangular pad, lined with speeders of various sizes, shapes and colors. The red convertible speeder was sandwiched between a massive cargo speeder and a news speeder. Sylvia had parked on the other end.

"I'll see you at home, my love," Matthew said softly, leaning in to kiss her. As their lips met, Caleb turned away to give them privacy. As distasteful as he was of public displays of affection, he couldn't deny that the way Matthew and Sylvia kissed was full of love, signifying the deep connection they had to each other.

When they pulled away from each other, Sylvia smiled breathlessly. "I can't wait."

"I'll be at the Library until dinner. Tell the kids I said hi ok?"

She playfully whacked his arm. "Tell them yourself you dork."

They laughed, smiling widely at each other.

"So are we going or not?" Caleb shot them a smirk from ten feet away.

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Jerk."

"Hey, just trying to be responsible."

Sylvia's arms sneaked around her husband's neck as she shot Caleb a playful smirk. "Trying to say we aren't responsible?"

Before Caleb could muster anything more than a heavy sigh and a facepalm, their comlinks went off. Each series of high-pitched beeps assaulted their eardrums. They grabbed the comlinks and read the incoming message.

"Oh no." Sylvia looked surprised.

Matthew and Caleb exchanged worried glances. All three had received the exact same message. It read: LOS ANGELES ATTACKED, ALL PERSONNEL TO YOUR STATIONS.

No one needed to be told twice. Or even once. The trio ran to the nearest speeder, in this case Sylvia's. She jumped into the pilot's chair and had the engines up and running before the other Jedi could buckle their seatbelts. After a moment to allow the engines to warm up, she gunned it and took off towards the Praxeum.


	3. Chapter 2: Into the Unknown

Chapter 2

Into the Unknown

Raymond met them at the Praxeum Hangar Bay. All around them, ships owned and operated specifically by the Jedi sat, waiting to be used. Shuttles, starfighters, light freighters and so on. Droids and technicians moved between the ships, checking on panels, refueling, running diagnostics. Sylvia piloted through the ships to the spot designated for speeders. Almost as soon as she landed, Matthew leapt out, landing lightly next to Raymond and quickly striding towards the door without saying a word. Raymond followed, closely followed by Sylvia and Caleb.

"Report," Matthew barked, all business. He passed through the double doors, robes billowing behind him. A quick turn, and the elevator was in sight.

Raymond cleared his throat. "About ten minutes ago, we received a report. Our mysterious Dark Sider attacked a hangar in Los Angeles. He killed the crew of a Andor-class freighter."

"Alone?"

"No. He had a squad of what seem to be thugs. Or maybe bounty hunters."

Behind them, Sylvia and Caleb exchanged glances. Several names immediately sprang to mind. Guns for hire that operated in the Lawless Sectors, a region of space beyond the Republic borders notorious for their hatred of the galactic government. Matthew gave the pair a look, knowing what they were thinking.

"Wolf is in charge of the response. General Richards is requesting our insights," Raymond added, almost as an afterthought.

Matthew nodded. They wouldn't be able to persuade Wolf to let them help. Not after the skirmish in Brazil. But Richards had always been a supporter of the Jedi and had learned to value their opinions on tactical situations during the Mandalorian War. He, Sylvia and Caleb followed Raymond to the Briefing Room. A large room similar to the meeting room at the military headquarters in New Coruscant, but decorated with a simple banner over the double door. The blue and black winged logo of the Jedi Order.

Several Jedi were already present. Motodata, a member of a trio of Samurai Jedi who sat on the Council, keyed in a command and a holographic representation of Earth popped up, bathing the room in a blue light. Matthew and Sylvia joined hands as they surveyed the planet. Like every one of their companions, they were strictly professional. Kiyomasa and Masamune stood shoulder to shoulder with Motodata, their dark grey samurai armors all gleaming to a perfect shine. Other Jedi such as Argo and Kooru had also gathered to watch, ready with flight suits on in case an order to take to the stars was given.

"So far," Raymond began, drawing all eyes onto him. "Our reports show that the terrorists have successfully hijacked the freighter and managed to break through the upper atmosphere here." He pointed to a spot. It glowed red and the name Andor-Class appeared beside it. "Republic fighters are in pursuit, but so far they have been unable to intercept the freighter."

"Have any hailing attempts been made?" Matthew asked.

A small shake of the head took care of that question.

Caleb leaned in, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "What do we know about the freighter?" He stroked his chin thoughtfully, running a hand through the stubble on his face.

This time it was not Raymond that answered. It was Motodata. "The ship in question is a Andor-class light freighter built by the Banking Clan. Captain Model was a hired cargo hauler for them."

"Why this ship then?" Raymond snapped irritably.

Caleb and Motodata gave him looks. "Explain?" both said at the same time.

"If they are trying to evade the Republic military they could've picked a different ship. Andor freighters are kind of rare. They stand out."

Matthew shrugged. So far he had been studying the map, tuning out the conversation and allowing his own mind to wander through the possible intercept avenues. While his fellows had been discussing the freighter he had updated the holographic projection to include the positions of Republic forces, the various technical descriptions of each ship and the trajectory of the freighter itself. "Who knows. But right now it doesn't matter." He gestured to the modifications he had made, indicating what he believed was more important at present.

The Jedi fell silent, watching the situation play out. A Yorktown-class light cruiser was now bearing down on the freighter. Yorktown cruisers were support ships used to launch sneak attacks while larger vessels such as the Venator Star Destroyers took the brunt of any attacks. They were armed with multiple turbolasers, but carried few starfighters. This cruiser in particular had none, they were all under maintenance. It was probably this fact that was causing one of the Venators of the First Fleet to adjust its course to block off the freighter's escape. The hologram showed the Destroyer bearing down on the freighter, which was about to be sandwiched between her and the Star Destroyer.

The light cruiser was displayed as a small green triangle. It pulsed several times in rapid succession. Warning shots. This was soon followed by communications. "Banking Clan Freighter. This is Captain Yates of the _RSS Integrity_. You have violated numerous Republic laws. Heave to and prepare to be boarded. This is your only friendly warning."

As expected, the freighter did not adjust its course. The Venator launched fighters, a squadron of X-wings. Each Clone pilot signaled their ready status over the comm with various reports of "Blue Five, standing by", or "Blue Eight, standing by."

"Lock S-foils in attack position," Blue Leader ordered.

"Banking Clan Freighter. Final warning. Surrender now or we will open fire." Captain Yates' voice was as any Republic officer should be in that situation. Calm and collected, but laced with threat. She would not back down.

Neither would the freighter. The Jedi watched in anticipation as the green dots that were the X-wings formed into attack formation and prepared to make a run at the freighter. Pulses of light came from each dot, one after the other, as their laser cannons opened up. The red hostile dot jugged and swerved, somehow evading each shot.

"This is clearly one exceptional pilot," Motodata murmured.

"Indeed, Master Jedi," the hologram of General Richards said as he materialized at Matthew's other elbow. His head turned, fixing the Jedi Master with a beady stare. "Any suggestions, Master White? Unlike my subordinates, I value the advice of your Order."

Matthew inclined his head, the ghost of a smile dancing about his lips. "Have your X-wings break off their attack and order _Integrity_ to open fire. Drive them right into that Star Destroyer's welcoming arms, or in this case, welcoming hangar bay."

The general nodded and turned. An aide materialized just behind him, caught in the same holographic projector as his general. After a hushed series of whispers, the aide nodded quickly and scurried off. Seconds later, the X-wing blips peeled off in a single snake like formation and began flying in lazy circles around the freighter.

" _Integrity's_ turbolasers are powering up. She's coming around to hit the ship's starboard power couplings," Sylvia whispered, unable to keep a note of excitement from her voice.

The restraint of the light cruiser's choice of target was rather impressive, Matthew thought. Clearly, the knowledge that vital military Intel was aboard had been driven through quite effectively.

One by one, the turbolasers spoke their piece, delivering shot after shot. He visualized it in his mind's eye, blue lances of deadly energy streaking through space, flak exploding around the freighter. What he did not expect was for the freighter to weather the storm with ease, with subtle turns or sharp adjustments to her wingspans enabling her to slip through the turbolaser fire. As apprehension mounted in the Jedi watching the battle play out, a shot finally impacted just below the cargo hold. There was a massive explosion as the underbelly of the ship ripped open. Loose chunks of metal tore free and floated freely in space. The freighter itself listed dangerously, smoke trailing in large plumes.

" _Integrity_ hold your fire. Prepare a boarding party. I want that crew alive and the Intel returned intact!" Richards cried out.

The light cruiser's guns instantly silenced. A heavy silence filled the room. Seconds crept by as she drew closer and closer to the crippled target. Raymond and Caleb exchanged glances. None of the other Jedi had to be geniuses to work out what was going through their heads. The presence of the Dark Sider changed the rules of the game. A squad of clone troopers would be swiftly outmatched. Throughout the battle, each Jedi had gotten a clear sense of the Dark Side emanating from the freighter. An acrid stench in the Force that would not go away.

Though they all knew it, none of them spoke it for a long moment, waiting to see how the situation would play out. The _Integrity_ finally drew into range and her hangar door opened.

Sylvia could finally take it no longer. "General!" She let go of her husband's arm and faced the hologram. "General, with all due respect, you must call off those boarding parties!" Both Richards and Matthew gave her looks of astonishment and admiration respectively, but she could not care less what they thought at the moment. "The terrorists on board that ship are more than a match for your troops."

The Jedi knew her to be correct, but after their failed attempt to apprehend the Dark Sider, each one of them knew what Richard's response would be. "Master White, I appreciate your concern for our troops. But maybe we will succeed. Just this once." He smirked as she bristled, furious that he would endanger his men's lives for no good reason. But he was well within his rights to do so and no Jedi could give a direct order to the General in charge of all defenses on Earth. Even O'Hare had to defer to his orders. No doubt he was furious at this blunder as well.

Matthew put a hand on Sylvia's arm and gave a subtle shake of the head. The message was clear. She gave him an irritated glance, to which he smiled, hoping that would tell her he was on her side. Then he returned his attention to the holographic projectors.

The shuttles were closing in, almost to the boarding hatch. And then, all at once, the freighter was gone. Her blip disappeared from the map. Raymond and Motodata began furiously tapping keys on the various consoles on the table.

"What the devil was that?" Caleb demanded.

Motodata responded quickest, being closer to the sensor panel than the others. He probed the area the freighter had occupied with deft precision. Finally, he said, "They jumped to light speed."

"How was their tachyon drive functional after that hit?" Raymond barked furiously. Matthew gave him a glance, but he ignored it. "Those turbolasers should have shredded the power couplings."

Caleb sighed. "It no longer matters. Now we must track their course."

The mood in the Council chamber was heavy. A restless night had afflicted all of them. Some due to the increased duties the current crisis had placed upon them. For others, the cause was far more personal. A restlessness had befallen them, disturbing their sleep and driving them to meditate. But solace had not been found even in meditation. A darkness was threatening to shroud the Force in chaos and mystery. A darkness that grew more and more sinister, a sign of events to come. Every one of the twelve Masters of the Council knew this. Recent events were only the beginning of something far greater.

Raymond surveyed his fell Masters through tired eyes. Exhaustion was evident on Matthew's face. The Grand Master tended to show what was inside more fully than most. This caused difficulty shielding his mental states and emotions from others and in doing so meant he had to go to greater lengths to cast the kinds of telepathic defenses Jedi were renowned for. Caleb sat next to him on the right hand side, robes freshly ironed, a somber expression on his face. The perfect epitome of wisdom and Jedi calm. His wife Maya sat beside him looking the same. Beside her and still going to the right sat Masamune, Motodata and Kiyomasa. The Samurai trio. Today they wore formal Jedi robes interwoven with grey chest plates.

Before Raymond could finish assessing his colleagues, Caleb had called the meeting to order. "Fellow Masters of the Council, we have gathered here to discuss what is undoubtedly the most perplexing case we've seen since before the Mandalorian War." Raymond suppressed the flare of emotion accompanied by painful memories at the mention of the war. He had been captured at the start of the war and spent months struggling to survive in a Mandalorian prison, only to escape and spend ten years in the deserts of the world. With effort, he jolted himself back to the present. A Master of the Order should pay more attention. He chastised himself.

Caleb was still speaking. "Our experts have analyzed the hijacked freighter's course and determined our fugitives are heading for the Unknown Regions."

A collective gasp ran around the chamber.

Raymond leaned forwards. "How do they know? There are thousands of systems in the Republic?"

Caleb considered this. The point was obvious. Between Earth and the border of the Unknown Regions lay many systems, each a possibility for the terrorists to seek refuge upon. "It...is a distinct possibility that they intend to seek refuge outside of Republic space. That they believe we do not have the courage to follow them beyond our border."

"They possess vital Republic secrets. We must prove them wrong." Masamune spoke in a deep voice. Heads nodded in agreement.

Yaddoa, a small ancient Master with green skin and large pointed ears, spoke up. "Put together a task force, the Chancellor has. Request a Jedi team, Captain Yates does."

"Yes." Caleb almost smiled. Though he did not know the captain personally, Yates was a fine officer in his opinion. "The _RSS Integrity_ , _RSS Salvation_ , _RSS Valiant_ , _RSS Cambridge_ and _RSS Enterprise_ are getting ready to depart. They leave at first light tomorrow morning."

Matthew leaned forwards and cleared his throat. Having remained silent for the whole meeting, this drew some stares. The Council gave the Grand Master their full attention. "Which Jedi do you propose we send?"

"You're the Grand Master," Raymond scoffed. "Just order a man to go and they will do it without question."

Matthew shook his head solemnly. "I will not potentially order a Jedi to his or her death if it can be avoided. This is a volunteer mission only." His tone was laced with steel. The look he shot Raymond told the Jedi now was not the time to discuss this.

"With respect, Master White," the Twi'Lek Master Hera spoke, her gaze bold and direct, her chin held high. "Master Shearin does have a point. Every Jedi in our order would gladly take even the most dangerous of assignments in the span of a heartbeat."

A small sigh escaped Matthew before he could stop it. This was not the conversation he needed at the moment. "Masters, truly I do understand your point. My desires still stand. This will be a volunteer mission until the necessity to change that arises. Clear?"

Raymond and Hera nodded.

"Good. Now, any volunteers?"

Every hand in the room shot up. Caleb. Raymond. Maya. Masamune. Motodata. Kiyomasa. Yaddoa. Hera. Ralla-Ripaal. Lowbacca the Wookiee. Shak-TytonoL. Matthew smiled at them all. The pride he felt in them was evident in the Force. It was no secret that Matthew considered every Jedi an extension of his family and displays of loyalty to their cause such as this only further increased his belief that the new generation of Jedi they were ushering in was in good hands.

"Very well. Master Temple." He shot Caleb a grin so everyone would know which Temple he was referring to. "Would you like the honors? I know the Unknown Regions is of particular interest to you, my friend."

Laughter ran around the Council. Everyone knew that Caleb was a historian at heart. The Master grinned back. "I graciously accept, Master White. I'll send you a postcard."

There was more laughter at this until Kiyomasa cleared his throat loudly. He glared at them. "Look at us, laughing like children. People have died my fellow brethren. Should we not focus on that?"

Matthew fixed him with a calm expression. His deep blue eyes seemed to bore into Kiyomasa's. "You have a good point, Master. But, to counter, I would say that laughter is essential even in the face of tragedy. We must seek justice yes, but we must never let our pursuit of that justice blind us to other things. Friendship being just one example of that."

Kiyomasa nodded assent.

"Well," Caleb began. "Obviously I won't be going alone."

Maya smiled. "I'm coming as well."

There would be no debating that. Maya was almost as historically minded as Caleb. No way she would pass up a chance to visit the Unknown Regions.

"I'd like to bring along Masters Kooru and Jeremy, the Knights Ayrin Beals, Taria and her Padawan Eelya. As well as Kooru's Padawan Shia."

Raymond nodded to show his agreement. He had personally trained Jeremy nearly to Knighthood Upon his return to Earth, he had sought out his former apprentice shortly after being reunited with his family. He had been proud to discover that his training had paid off. Jeremy had become a legendary Jedi Knight and a formidable force on the battlefield. His technological innovations had helped advance many of the Republic's military technologies. Tanks, bunkers, various traps and the like were all stuff he designed. A hobby, he said. And it had amounted to much success. Beals and Taria were well regarded for their skills with the Force and the blade respectively. And Kooru was an expert of espionage and combat, recent events not withstanding. The team would do well. He intentionally sent those thoughts to Matthew's mind and watched as the Jedi Master processed the information. No doubt it was information he was already aware of, but the pride Raymond felt for his former Padawan and his regard for the others would no doubt help sway Matthew.

"It is decided. Master Temple, you may assemble your team."

"Master Kooru, failed quite recently he has. Up to the challenge is he?" Yaddoa asked curiously.

Caleb looked at her. "Master, everyone deserves a chance to redeem himself in the eyes of his fellows."

That silenced any objections the others might have thought to bring up. It was now decided. Caleb and Maya departed to gather their team and prepare themselves for the coming mission. The rest of the Council turned their discussion to other matters. The repairs in DC had been completed thanks to the Cybertron engineering systems. However, maintaining the trust the public had for them was essential. Some in the military already viewed them as unnecessary, even dangerous. It was vital that the citizens of the Republic fully supported the presence of the Jedi.

The captain's quarters aboard the _Integrity_ were smaller than most. Just the way her captain preferred it. A woman who had put aside her own desires and passions in order to serve her Republic, Emma Yates took few personal liberties with her quarters. A desk filled with datapads and reports of ship diagnostics, personnel reports, tactical updates and others, lined the wall on the left. On the other side was a small bathroom with a shower. The bed had been moved from its position beside the desk to the back wall, where she could easily fall asleep with the stars watching over her.

Emma paced around, thinking. Her fleet was due to depart soon. And she still had yet to hear from the engine room about the technical problems they had faced. _Integrity_ was a new ship, still full of bugs. Her crew had been mostly transferred from the _RSS Wind of Fate_ , another cruiser of the same class. Emma briefly remembered that fateful day, the ion storm that had sprung up out of nowhere and torn her ship apart. Within seconds all systems were offline and heavy damage to the outer hull had been sustained. Breaches threatened to pull the ship apart. Some of the crew had been fortunate enough to survive in the escape pods and shuttles. The reset had perished in the inferno.

Unfortunately, the _Wind_ had been lost. It had been a fine ship. Emma smiled at the memories. She and her crew had shared many memories together and she wouldn't trade them for the world.

Without warning, her comlink chimed. She picked it up and turned it on. "Yes?"

The voice of her first officer came, crisp and smooth. "Captain, engineering reports all systems ready to go. If you could join us on the bridge."

Yates nodded. Then realized there was no one to see her and said, "Understood. I will be there shortly."

With that, the line went dead, leaving Yates alone once again. Excitement filled her. This was it. They were ready. The Unknown Regions awaited. Quelling her excitement, she left her quarters and journeyed the familiar corridors to the bridge. Adopting the face of a stern military officer, she marched confidently in.

Her crew was there, Commander Thompson, the first officer immediately evacuating the captain's chair to make way for her arrival. Lieutenant Sorva, a Rodian, manned tactical. "Weapons ready, sir." She nodded and turned her attention to Ensign Lal. The Bith shot her a cocky grin that was hastily rearranged into strict professionalism. "Ready and waiting, sir."

"You run a tight ship, Captain."

Yates tensed. The distinctly voice had come from behind. Years of military experience told her to spin around and blast the intruder. But she held back. If there was an intruder, her crew would have informed her. Or blasted him already. She turned slowly.

Dressed in his finest black Jedi tunic and robes, Caleb Temple smiled serenely at her. His hands were clasped behind his back, his lightsaber displayed prominently on his left side. The way he carried himself spoke of a confidence and a power that radiated from him, yet humility enough to not draw enough attention to himself. Everyone in the military, regardless of branch, knew him by reputation.

"Master Temple, thank you for answering our request for a Jedi strike team," she said, extending a hand.

The Jedi graciously shook it, still smiling. "The honor is ours, Captain."

Despite herself, Yates found herself smiling back. "I have every confidence that your team will be of great help, despite recent events." She had a brief moment of apprehension, wondering how he would take her reminder of the Jedi's recent failures.

She need not have worried. His expression remained the same. As perceptive as she was, she could not detect. Perhaps his Jedi powers kept her from perceiving him accurately. No matter. It was irrelevant to the mission.

"Captain," her communications officer, Lieutenant Arden, spoke up. "Command is requesting our launch codes."

"Submit codes." All business, Yates strode to her chair. She allowed herself a brief moment to appreciate the hum of the engines running under her feet. "Power up the engines, bring the tachyon drive online."

Her first officer pressed a hand to the comm in his ear. "All stations report ready status."

"Codes received. Command gives us permission to launch and wishes us luck."

"Tell them we don't need it, but thanks anyways." Yates smirked at Arden.

"Yes sir."

"Take us up, Ensign."

With a rush and a jolt, Lal calmly detached the ship from the docking port. Her engines roared in anticipation of flight. Alongside them, the _Salvation_ , _Valiant_ , _Cambridge_ and _Enterprise_ detached from their respective docking ports. The orbital docking station fell behind them as the fleet swung round and into a loose V formation with _Integrity_ at the head.

"Captain what's our course?"

"The Unknown Regions. Antares system."

The strike team's presence diminished in a sense. Not the kind of diminishing that meant death or injury, trouble rising to strike out at them. Rather it was the kind of diminishing that indicated the stretching of the distance between them and Earth, all the harder to sense their locations or their presence in the Force.

"All ships have entered light speed. The fleet is away," Raymond reported.

Matthew stood with hands folded in front of him. He faced the window, barely paying to his faint reflection. "I know."

"Do you have to do that?"

Matthew smirked at his old friend's tone. "Do what?"

The fiercer Jedi sighed heavily. "Too early." He walked over to the window and gazed out over the landscape. The Jedi Praxeum was a rectangular building. Tall and grand for a Jedi structure, its five towers loomed over the building and the residents of Charlotte, North Carolina, an ancient state of America, a city that had persevered and lasted longer than most. The four towers on each corner served as a communication post, supply storage, sensor station and security tower respectively. And finally in the center, a large, slightly thinner tower. Little more than an elevator with a support structure leading up to the circular Council Chamber where the Masters met and discussed galactic events.

Both Jedi stood in silent contemplation as the bright yellow sun slowly rose over the planet, bathing the city in its light and warmth. The spires of Charlotte cast shadows, blocking out part of the horizon. Speeders and buses flew to and fro between buildings.

"I missed this view."

Matthew almost didn't notice his friend had spoken, his voice was so quiet it could've been a whisper. Not even intended for his ears. "Hmm?"

Raymond glanced at him. "When I was on Mandalore. I missed this view."

"You won't find a view like it anywhere in the galaxy."

A gruff chuckle rumbled up from Raymond's gut. "That's true."

Silence fell between them again. It was free of tension or worry. Just the two old friends watching the sun rise. It was a breathtaking kind of beauty until a low rumble split the silence.

"Matt!"

Matthew grimaced. "My stomach." It growled again. "I'm starving come on." He turned and walked to the door. It hissed open, revealing the Council Chamber's one and only elevator. Raymond followed close behind.

The atmosphere in the Praxeum was light and jovial. Every now and then, Younglings ran through corridors, occasionally chased by teachers and friends. Their giggling and mischief filled the halls, drowning out the scoldings of the Knights teaching them. Classes were just starting, the young Jedi, full of energy from breakfast, would prove a handful.

Other Jedi bustled about, heading from place to place to complete assignments. Many Jedi were still helping to rebuild the Republic, to heal the wounds caused by the long Mandalorian War that had ended only a scant four years ago. Jedi were often being dispatched to the far reaches of the Republic. There was much to be done. The war had been isolated to a few sectors, but the aftermath had enabled criminals and pirates to expand their power far greater than was tolerable in peacetime. Most Jedi dealt with them, but there were those who preferred a peaceful approach. To deal with economic or refugee problems, to spend their time meditating on the Force and using their power to build and create rather than to fight. As such, the Praxeum had many construction rooms where gadgets and inventions could be designed and tested. Or peaceful places, such as the Room of a Thousand Fountains, where one could meditate whenever they pleased. Even at the latest of hours.

Jedi nodded respectfully to Matthew and Raymond as they, with robes flowing, strode side by side, observing the Order they had forged. Raymond would nod back, Matthew would typically say a greeting and exchange some banter. He made it his personal mission to know every member of their Order as well as possible. This did delay their arrival at the Kitchens, but it left him feeling rejuvenated and Raymond exasperated.

"Food, Matt, food. How can you get distracted from food?"

"By not thinking with just my stomach," the Jedi Master replied with a smirk.

Raymond sighed heavily and grabbed a plate. The Kitchens were organized much like a buffet restaurant. Cooks prepared meals found from all corners of the Republic. Breads, butters, meats, vegetables, fruits, stews of all varieties were arranged by type, with different utensils accommodating various numbers and placements of fingers. The lighting came from lamps hanging overhead bathing the room in a soft golden glow.

The cook shot them an irritated glance. She, a young Twi'Lek, had been preparing to put the food away. With a sigh, she hefted a pot onto the mobile tray and took it to the back. Round a corner, out of sight from the tables. The Jedi's Force-enhanced hearing detected the sound of running water and vicious scrubbing as the woman began cleaning.

"Table by the window?" Raymond jerked a shoulder in that direction. The Kitchens were nearly deserted now, with only a handful of Knights and Masters scattered about. Some ate alone, others conversed in hushed voices.

Matthew nodded.

The tables were a soft brown wood with no tablecloth. A napkin holder and silverware was set in the center. Each of the four chairs was comfortable, with various cushioning's lining the back. Each table was like this and there were many.

For a long time the two Jedi ate in silence. Food was as good as always. When selecting kitchen staff, Matthew had been quite particular to select only those with dedication to the culinary arts, determined to make the Jedi's home a place of sanctuary. And food, he strongly believed, was a big part of that. Even if other members of the Order disagreed, and some like Raymond did, believing it was better to be practical in all things rather than elaborate in some, they could not dispute the quality of the cooking.

Matthew's plate was soon empty. Raymond's however, was half-touched.

"Problem?"

Raymond shook his head.

"No, I know you better than that. What's on your mind?"

Raymond sighed and flipped a long braid over his shoulder. "It's the mission we sent Caleb on."

"How so?"

"I have a bad feeling. It almost feels like the Force is trying to warn me of something."

"Like what?"

"Something darker than anything we've faced before."

Matthew looked at his friend. He knew of Raymond's power and connection to the Force. Stronger than many Jedi and developed in a far different way. In the harsh, rugged landscapes of Mandalore, Raymond had survived only through developing his Jedi skills to the Nth degree. One benefit of this was that his danger senses were far more attuned than most. And whenever he sensed something bad about to happen, he was almost always right.

"What do you think we should do about it, Ray?" Matthew asked quietly.

The gruffer Jedi shrugged. "Nothing we can do. Yet. All we can do is wait to see what reveals itself."

A nod was all Matthew could manage. As usual, Raymond was right.

Realizing he had been shifting his empty plate around his spot for the last few minutes, Matthew sighed and stood. No sooner had he reached his full height than a wave of dizziness washed over him. He staggered. The room spun, and his vision blurred almost to the point of being entirely unable to see. It was overpowering, his breakfast threatening to leave his stomach. He doubled over, clutching his stomach.

Beside him, Raymond was in a similar situation, clutching on to the table as he sagged downwards. Their breaths were ragged and harsh, sweat beaded their brows. Raymond lost his grip on the table and fell onto his back. His eyes were squeezed shut. Matthew slumped over his chair and waited desperately for the moment to pass. Eventually it did.

"What...was...that?" Raymond croaked out, struggling to his feet. His limbs were shaky. Reaching for the Force did not help. It felt tainted. Something was off. If anything, it made him weaker and he staggered again.

The young kitchen attendant stood wringing her hands in worry behind them. "Master Jedi? What seems to be the matter? Was it the food?"

"No." Raymond's voice was gruffer than he'd intended and the girl jumped. "The food had nothing to do with it." The Jedi gripped the table for support. "Matt?" His friend had clawed his way to a standing position, breathing hard.

"Yeah. Let's go." Matthew staggered towards the door, pulling out his comlink. As he was about to comm someone, let them know what had happened, his comlink began to be flooded by text messages. Jedi in the Praxeum, across the planet, even on other worlds. All reporting the same thing. Overwhelming dizziness and nausea. "Ray..." He showed his friend the messages. "This isn't just us."

Raymond bolted from the room fast as he dared with the Grand Master close behind. The Kitchen door hissed shut behind them. They ran, not quite knowing where they were going to, but allowing the Force to guide their decisions. Matthew reached into the Force, but something stopped him. It took him a few seconds to realize that the Force itself felt off. Tainted. Darkened. Something was very wrong. He tried to reach it, focusing with all the effort he could muster. The only thing that was untainted was the love he felt. Drawing on its power, focusing on the love he felt for one specific person, he knew that his significant other would somehow be able to help. An image of his wife came to mind. In his mind's eye he focused that image, saw her sitting in a room full of politicians. Her nervousness rang through the Force. Some were looking at her with concern, indicating she had fallen victim to the same dizziness that had affected him. "Sylvia."


	4. Chapter 3: Jedi Peril

Chapter 3

Jedi Peril

As much as Sylvia understood the importance of the Economic Oversight Committee, she still found it horribly boring. The various politicians had nothing to do except argue. Which worlds had suffered more during the war? Which systems had contributed the most to the Republic? Which systems deserved aid more? Which systems were more prestigious? Ugh. It made her want to bang her head on the table.

She didn't. As mediator, it was her job to settle disputes and give advice. Advice these childish morons probably wouldn't even bother acknowledging. This was, to Sylvia, why the Jedi were better suited for handling military matters and should only work with the military. Despite the layers of command and protocol, the various branches of the military were straight forward and to the point. You had your orders, you followed them. Here, each Senator thought he or she was in charge and attempted to assert dominance over the proceedings. It was quite fortunate that under the structures of the Republic government, career politicians were strictly forbidden and term limits enforced. This at least gave other people a chance to govern and a chance to clean out the idiots who thought politics was a good thing.

Somehow they had gone a full hour without anyone being Force-strangled.

As another Senator took the floor to bring up yet another argument, no doubt rehashing points already discussed a dozen times over, Sylvia barely suppressed a gasp. Her vision spun and she nearly blacked out. Dizziness and nausea slammed into her like a freight train. Her stomach churned. She gasped for breath.

After a moment her vision returned and the dizziness faded. To her embarrassment, she had managed to attract the attention of most of the committee.

"Master Jedi?" Senator Orn Taa, the Senator of Ryloth, asked as he placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Are you alright?"

Sylvia pondered the question. Was she? What had happened? She ignored the blush creeping up her cheeks and focused. Her stomach settled. "Yes. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

She shot him a look. "I'm fine, Senator. We may continue."

Slowly, Senator Orn Taa resumed his speech, speaking of the value of Ryloth to the Republic. The exceptionally large Twi'Lek was rather wordy. His speech was so bloated one could fight an entire war and he would still be talking.

"Sylvia." Initially, the voice surprised her. She had not sensed her husband walk in. Then she realized that the voice had come from within her own head. From the powerful bond she and Matthew shared.

"I'm ok Matt, I promise," she said in her head. She layered the words with her thoughts and her analysis of herself, sending a trace of her physical presence to him. She felt his senses probing it almost like eyes and sighed. She loved Matthew, but he could be overprotective at times. "Matt."

"Sorry. Just checking."

"Trust me, I'm ok. I'd tell you if I wasn't."

"Sorry."

"It's ok. I'm going to finish the meeting and head to the Praxeum to find out what happened." She glanced around the room. Telepathic communication required the communicators to go into an almost trance-like state due to the concentration needed. Distance especially affected the amount of concentration. They were close enough that Sylvia wasn't too distracted. But she really hadn't taken in a single word that was being said. All she knew was that another Senator had taken the floor.

Matthew's senses spiked, a note of urgency. "We need you here. Now. This...whatever this is. It happened to all the Jedi at the Praxeum."

"When you say all...?" Sylvia's thoughts trailed off.

He read what she was not asking instantly. "Yes. Even the Younglings."

Sylvia was instantly on her feet. Once again all eyes were on her. This time, however, she did not care. "Senators, an urgent matter has come up at the Praxeum. I'm afraid it requires my immediate attention." She pushed back from the table and stood as regally as she could muster. Apparently her limbs were still somewhat shaky.

"Master White, do you require medical assistance?"

Sylvia shot the Rodian woman standing at the right side of Senator Kalanus from Bespin a look. "Thank you. But I'm fine. I'll be at the Praxeum if anyone requires me." Her gaze swept the Senators, daring any of them to speak up next. When none did she swept her robes about her and strode out the door without a backwards glance.

She instantly wished that she had remained. If her family did not need her she would have been quite content to remain in the meeting. The politicians sucked, but at the very least the room was air-conditioned. Out here in the open hallways was a different story. Controls must have malfunctioned. The heat was way to high. Sweat beaded her forehead within minutes.

The landing pad had never been a more welcome sight. New Coruscant was a beautiful place, with buildings jutting up into the clouds, sandwiched together and connected by sub trains. Speeders and ships of all sizes wove through traffic lanes in the skies, most lanes merely connecting a few buildings but some connected cities together.

Cool air on her face felt amazing. It reminded her of her birthplace. The region formerly known as Michigan, where she had spent her early childhood before being recruited into the Jedi. She smiled to herself as she got into her speeder. Joining the Jedi was one of the best decisions in her life. Arguably the best. If she hadn't, would have never met Matthew or had Jack and Erica. And she might've ended up in a meaningless career that would mean nothing in the grand scheme.

Speaking of making a difference. Sylvia's smile faded as she gunned the engine to her speeder. As she lifted off, the canopy slid into place over her, shielding her from the rain. She took off, easing into the nearest traffic lane.

When Sylvia reached the Praxeum, the atmosphere felt different. Subdued. Jedi bustled about quicker than usual. The Force itself felt wrong. Like a cold, clear river full of sparkling water that had been tainted by poison. It seemed to drag her down physically and mentally, sapping her energy and seeming to bring back the worst memories and fears she had long since defeated. Still, she soldiered on, finding Matthew in the Medical Center.

This was the busiest hub of activity. The circular room was lined with beds. It was lit with glowing white lights and the walls were of a light grey color. Decorations of various culture's artworks and of Jedi emblems were placed in strategic viewing places to allow for a sense of home. It seemed to help Younglings feel more at peace when being treated.

Speaking of the Younglings. Sylvia let out a gasp of horror when a young Jedi nurse moved aside, allowing her a glimpse of the problem Matthew had needed her for. Several dozen children of varying species, all unconscious, were laid to rest on the beds. Others were on the floor, covered by blankets. Their young faces seemed to be little masks of fear and sickness.

Someone accidentally brushed against her shoulder. Sylvia jumped and scooted to the side to allow them to pass. She watched as two Jedi carried a young Rodian, one she recognized as a Padawan and friend of Jack's, and set him down next to a Twi'Lek Youngling that could have been no older than five Earth years old. Her heart sank.

"Sylvia." A warm hand closed on her shoulder. "Hey."

She turned and met Matthew's eye. "What happened?"

"That's what I need your help to find out, love." His Force aura blazed with so many different emotions. Fear. Worry. Determination. His face was impassive, calm. It was only because Sylvia knew him so well that she could sense what was underneath. "Can you go to my vault?"

"The...?" She blinked in confusion.

"My vault. The Grand Master's Vault."

Sylvia tilted her head. "But I'm not the Grand Master."

One. One. Zero. Four. One. Four. Two. Zero. Two. Zero. The numbers rose, unbidden, uncalled into her mind. It took her a second to guess what it was. The code to the vault that Matthew spoke of.

"Go. Get me two Holocrons. You will know which ones."

"Do you have to be so mysterious?"

Matthew smirked despite the situation. "Yes." He kissed her forehead. "Meet me in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, please. I love you."

"I love you to." She gave him a small smile and left. As the door hissed shut behind her, Matthew allowed himself a moment to wonder how he had been lucky enough to marry the most beautiful, most loving, most caring, strongest woman in the galaxy.

A cough at his shoulder jerked him from his thoughts and Raymond spoke. "Matt. They are still finding more children."

"It appears this happened throughout the entire Praxeum. Take a team, search the place from top to bottom. Search every crack and crevice. Find me every single one of our children." His voice was firm and left no room for argument, indicating his switch from loving husband to calm collected leader.

Raymond, also calm, nodded curtly, turning on his heel and marching away. "Arden! Barrett! With me. Now."

The two Jedi he had spoken to dropped what they were doing and hurried after him. Matthew knew the first thing Raymond would do. Find more Jedi and coordinate search teams from there. He couldn't help but wonder why this had happened. What had happened in the Force? Had it betrayed them? Deemed them somehow unworthy to wield its power? No, that could not be it. The Jedi were the bastions of the Light, the champions of balance. Whatever had happened to the Force was something much more sinister.

Matthew turned to the nearest Youngling, a young girl of about ten. Komaree. A talented young Jedi, already with several Knights lining up to be her prospective Master when she became old enough to be a Padawan. He shot a glance at his own son on the floor next to her. He had been found near his class.

"Master White?" the Jedi nurse asked tentatively. "We are running out of room."

"Take them to the Room of a Thousand Fountains if you have to. The Force is strong there. It may assist with recovery."

"Yes, Master."

Matthew knelt beside his own son. "Jack...please be ok." He stretched forth a hand to the boy's forehead. He looked so much like his mother, and yet so much like his father it was strange in a way. "Come back to me." He allowed the Force to build within him, coursing through his body and down his arm. His fingertips seemed to glow as the energy currents traversed his fingertips to the boy beside him.

And yet, nothing changed. Shocked, Matthew removed his hand. What had gone wrong? It was a technique that was supposed to analyze the body and mind of a subject and enable the user of the technique to diagnose them quicker. Maybe his skill was rusty? He sighed. His healing skills had never been on par with the likes of Jedi like Ayrin Beals, Yaddoa or others. Physical injuries were, for the most part no problem for him. But this was a matter of the mind and of the Force itself.

He glanced up at Komaree. Maybe the bond between father and son had somehow dampened the effect of the technique? No. Not possible. It should have increased the effect. "Maybe if I try again?" He did the same thing to the girl, this time experiencing some success. It was almost as if her mind was in a trance-like state. Matthew thought back to his own experience. It had almost rendered him unconscious. Maybe something in the nature of children made them more vulnerable to whatever had happened.

"Qel," he barked.

A head popped up from where the Kuati had been overseeing another Youngling. "Master?" Matthew turned to face him. The head physician made his way towards the Grand Master. "What do you require?"

"Start analyzing these children. And some Knights as well. This girl." Matthew gestured to Komaree as he spoke. "Her mind appears to be in a trance. It is possible that the rest of the children will be the same."

"If their minds are in a trance, how are we to bring them out of it?"

Matthew considered this for a long moment before speaking. "Use every method of communication and treatment both Force-based and otherwise you can think of. If something starts to work, prioritize the use of that method." With that, he left. His feet guided him to the Room of a Thousand Fountains by instinct alone, his mind was wrapped up in thoughts. Fears. Emotions. All coursing through his mind threatening to destabilize his sanity.

The strange symptoms that had befallen the Jedi on Earth had indeed struck everywhere. Every Jedi across the galaxy, no matter of location or activity, suddenly collapsed under the weight of overwhelming dizziness and nausea. The strike team aboard _Integrity_ was no different. They had just sat down for breakfast when all of a sudden food was no longer the most pressing of matters.

Jeremy reacted the calmest, merely laying his head down on the table and waiting it out with the occasional moan. Fal leaned back in his chair. His Mirialan Padawan Shia passed out, falling out of her seat and sprawling on the floor. Ayrin Force-grabbed a bag and threw up. Maya groaned and turned her head away. The Twi'Lek duo of Taria and Eelya put their plates down and curled up in their seats, heads resting on their knees. Eelya's body went limp after a second and she blacked out.

Unsurprising for any who knew the Temple brothers, Caleb's reaction was the most drastic. He had just been about to sit down when it hit. His plate slid from his fingers, clattering to the floor and spilling its contents as he attempted to grab the chair. In desperation for something, anything to grab onto, the Jedi Master fumbled. His footing destabilized. He fell, toppling to the side. The chair his fingers had latched onto flipped, rolling in the air to land atop his head. "OW!"

After a moment, Maya blinked. "Everyone ok?" Her voice came out shaky as she attempted to stand. Her eyes scanned the room. All of them were present. Accounted for, in varying conditions. Except for...

"Caleb?" Maya looked around in confusion.

Caleb lifted an arm, a few fingers poking up over the edge of the table. "Over here."

Maya and Jeremy leaned over to see the Jedi sprawled on his stomach, a chair atop his head and the shattered plate beside him. He moved and groaned in pain. "How did you...?" Maya sighed and got up.

Her intent had been to help him get up. It apparently was not needed. Caleb pushed himself off the floor. The chair tumbled away, prompting a contented sigh. "That hurt."

"What even was it?" Jeremy asked. He had tentatively taken a bite of his breakfast, only to drop his fork and back away with a distasteful look.

Caleb and Maya exchanged glances. It was obvious that whatever had happened had been in the Force. It felt off. Tainted. It was hard to access. All that was untainted was, just as in the case of Matthew and Sylvia, their love and the bond that had forged. Though of course the two had no way of knowing that their friends back on Earth shared the same circumstances. "I don't know." Maya's whisper was just loud enough for Caleb to hear.

"Shia! Shia!" Their thoughts were interrupted by Fal, who was attempting to revive his Padawan. The girl did not awaken at once. But eventually she did, sitting up and smiling groggily at her master. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "I...I think so. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I almost passed out as well."

The girl nodded, looking reassured. Fal handed her a glass of water and she took small sips.

Taria did the same, though in a much more gentle manner. Almost like a mother to a daughter. Eventually the older Padawan regained consciousness, though her skin was still paler than it was supposed to be.

"Caleb?" Jeremy prompted his brother. "What was it?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Jeremy. Fal. One of you contact the Praxeum. Tell them what happened to us."

"Do you think Matthew will know what this is?" Ayrin asked. Her face had regained its color and she had disposed of the bag.

Jeremy shrugged and pointedly ignored Fal's irritated sigh. During their adventures over the course of the Mandalorian War, Matthew, Caleb, Sylvia, Maya, Jeremy, Ayrin and several other Jedi had formed a close-knit team. Though the strike unit had been dissolved following the resolution of the conflict and the reformation of both the Jedi Order and the Galactic Republic, Matthew still insisted those close friends address him by name rather than rank. "No idea," the young Master told her. "But even if he doesn't, he should be aware of our condition."

"The Grand Master cannot recall us to the Praxeum now. We are committed to the course," Fal reminded them politely.

Caleb nodded, conceding the point. "True. But he still needs to know."

Fal inclined his head in a gesture of agreement. Before he could say anything, however, the door hissed open. Captain Yates strode in. Her uniform was crisp and clean. The epitome of military precision. Her eyes blazed and her rank epaulettes seemed to shine.

"Captain." Caleb inclined his head respectfully. "May we help you?"

The woman's eyes snapped onto his. She had been surveying the fallen chair, the broken plate. Her nose wrinkled at the faint smell of vomit. "I don't want to know what has been going on in here." She held up a hand to prevent Ayrin or Jeremy, who had both opened their mouths, from answering. "But I have news."

"What has happened?" Caleb asked softly.

"We've lost all contact with Antares. Something appears to be blocking their communications."

Each Jedi exchanged subtle glances full of worry. One lone ship was not enough to disrupt the transmissions of a colony that size. Perhaps a storm had temporarily disabled the antenna. But Caleb didn't like it. And judging from his wife's Force aura and the expression on Jeremy's face, they didn't like it either. It was too much of a coincidence.

"Do you require us on the bridge?" Jeremy asked as urgently as he dared.

Yates nodded. "One will be enough. The rest of you, I'd suggest preparing yourself for a fight. I don't like this at all. We're several days away from Antares at most. But I like to be prepared." It was a quality Caleb could not help but admire. Her calm demeanor. The way she casually integrated the Jedi into her crew, treated them with the same respect she gave to her first officer. Or the other captains in her squadron.

"Ayrin, please accompany Captain Yates to the bridge," Caleb told the younger Knight. "The rest of us, to the cargo bay."

"Cargo bay?" Yates tilted her head. "Why?"

Caleb strode past her, a mysterious smile on his face. "To practice, Captain." Then he was gone. His robes billowed after him and the door hissed shut.

As anticipated, Sylvia was waiting for him. She sat on a rock overlooking a pond. Water from fountains suspended in the air with the Force rained into the pond, causing ripples and mist. Rivers and streams all branched out from the pond, flowing forth to meet with other, smaller ponds and fountains. The most peaceful place in the galaxy. The flow of the water was almost enough to lull one to sleep. Its surfaces were said to reflect more than the mere physical. Ripples emanated from the melding of fountains and ponds, disrupting those reflections, making it hard to see the physical. But that did not matter. A Jedi did not see with just his or her eyes. A true Jedi saw with the Force as well, looked past the ripples to see what was beneath the cold waves.

She looked up and saw him. Without saying a word, he could tell she had what he had asked for. His heart leapt. He would have answers. With a heart of gratitude, he smiled at her.

Matthew quickened his pace, reaching her and sitting beside her. "Hello love. Fancy meeting you here." He smiled at her exasperated expression. "I'm teasing."

"Is this really the time?"

Matthew shrugged. She had a point. But sometimes he could not resist the urge to annoy her. "Well, let's get on with it then." He sat upon the soft stone, his body melding with the rock, melding with the peace of the Force. He crossed his legs. Sylvia set the Holocrons in front of him and turned so her body was facing him, sitting across from him, her back to the water, her eyes closed. She could not access the Holocrons, Only Matthew could. The Force swirled around him and through him. Sylvia watched in the Force, feeling what he felt, a beacon of love and strength.

He placed a hand above the two small objects in front of his knees. He could feel the power of the Holocrons, two beacons in the current of power building. So small, yet powerful. An object few could comprehend.

But Matthew did not need to comprehend. Not now. He needed access. He needed answers. Open. The will of the Jedi, the Grand Master, flowed through his fingertips, becoming a calm command to the Holocrons. Open. He did not notice that he had spoken aloud. A tiny figure clad in Jedi robes appeared before him, generated from the matrix powering the Holocron. A simple-looking device to match the Jedi who had created it. Another figure appeared. This was a tad more resplendent, an echo of the prosperity of the Terran Empire that had ruled in ages long past.

"We have come." The voice of the first figure to appear was calm. His hands were folded in front of him, eyes staring up into Matthew's.

"Masters," the newest Grand Master said, inclining his head respectfully. It felt surreal. Being in the presence of two long-gone Jedi who had guided the Order through crises that had been consigned to the history books, yet had chosen to leave a part of themselves behind to guide future generations. It was enough to make him want to pay a visit to the history section of the Archives as soon as he was done. "I thank you for appearing."

"It is custom," the figure of the second Holocron replied. "We come when the reigning Grand Master requires our help. What do you require?"

Matthew paused to give himself time to think. He knew what his crisis was. What he needed. But why these two Holocrons? Master Zym Ductavis, the first ever Grand Master. Appointed over two thousand years ago when the Jedi had joined forces with the Earth Colonies. The other, dressed in more elegant robes, Luke Coven, had been the reigning Grand Master during what was undoubtedly the worst period in the history of the galaxy.

Realizing the two holographic images were expecting an answer and were staring at him expectantly, he suppressed a blush and a feeling of embarrassment. "Masters, the Order has experienced a turmoil the likes of which I have never seen."

Ductavis seemed to suppress a sigh and even exchanged a look with Coven. "Many say this. Especially those new to the responsibilities of leading the Jedi." Shock temporarily disrupted Matthew's line of thought, his focus on the waiting answer. Despite his vast knowledge of the Force and of how Holocrons functioned, it still managed to amaze him how powerful the mere essences could be. How aware they were. Ductavis continued. "The problem you face. Describe it, if you would, Master Jedi."

"All our Younglings, and possibly a multitude of Padawans are in a coma. A coma caused by a change in the Force." If the Holocrons had been truly sentient, Matthew was certain that he would have felt shock boiling off them in the Force. Instead, he felt a shift in the signatures that could possibly be translated as surprise. In front of him, he knew Sylvia was suppressing the images of their children, sound asleep in the Medical Center. He did as well. When control over the feelings had been established, Matthew continued. "Something has tainted the Force..."

"Something dark..." Coven's stern voice cut across his. "Then your problem is greater than we had initially suspected."

"You suspected?" Sylvia murmured.

The miniature apparition that was the long-dead Grand Master turned, meeting Sylvia's eye with an amused smile. "Yes, Master White. Our Holocrons never truly deactivate. We sensed a problem boiling within you the moment you picked up our vessels and carried us here."

Ductavis snorted. "Since when do Jedi marry?"

Matthew could not suppress a reproachful glare. "With respect, times do change. If Jedi can pass certain, ah, tests, then there is little problem with uniting in marriage. In becoming one."

The First Grand Master rolled his eyes. His tone was disdainful. "A true Jedi does not seek possession. Or attachment. Only compassion."

Coven gave Sylvia a long, appraising look. "No, Master. They are a perfect fit. A match made by the Force. They will play a pivotal role in the coming conflict and their love will be essential to see them through." Could Holocrons have the power to see into the future?

Matthew and Sylvia both blushed, both feeling like teenagers who had just begun dating and were being tested by their parents to determine if their relationship was healthy. Coven seemed to sense this, for he smirked and returned his gaze back to Matthew. "Now, Master, allow me to shed some light on the questions burning in your young mind."

The present Grand Master internally bristled. He was NOT young. Well, ok, he wasn't that old. But nor was he so young either. Whatever. He stifled his irritation and maintained his calm Jedi demeanor. "Thank you. What must I do to awaken our Younglings? They are the future of the Jedi. I cannot simply stand by while they slumber for who knows how long." His tone had lost some of its calm and a note of panic had entered. In the Force, his aura crackled with energy, suppressed by decades of training but still present. A boiling storm beneath the surface.

Each of the miniature projections took a long moment to consider their reply. Matthew and Sylvia both wondered what they would have sensed if they had been alive. The thought of having two Grand Masters spring to life from the Holocrons was a very intriguing thought. What were the Jedi of old like? Many records of the past had been destroyed. What remained was fragmented. It saddened many Jedi, particularly Caleb to know. At times, Matthew wished it was possible to restore their knowledge of history.

With the Holocrons in his grasp however, he had that chance. The Grand Masters would undoubtedly know much. Not just of Jedi history, but of the history of the old Terran Empire, the Orion Alliance and much more.

"A darkness has been unleashed upon the Force. A darkness of such power that I think you do not fully comprehend what you face." It was Coven who spoke. Ductavis looked at him impassively. If he had been sentient, Matthew had no doubt he would have sensed curiosity and confusion underneath his calm exterior. It was after all, what blazed beneath the surface, pushing the fear and worry to the side and taking precedence. It was in Sylvia's Force aura as well.

"What problem do I face?"

"Darkness capable of this has not been seen or sensed since the time of the Hundred Years of Darkness."

Air left his lungs in a whoosh. His blood ran cold. Shock pulsed through him, freezing him, paralyzing. He could not look up to meet his wife's eye. His body would not do as he commanded. Move. Look up. Do something other than sit here like an idiot. Shaking fingers brushed the lightsaber by his side. The cutlass-styled hilt he had designed during the war. A blue crystal powered its blade. That same crystal seemed to revitalize his functions, give him some form of strength to look up.

Sylvia's face had drained of color. Her Force aura went through a various cycle of emotions. Surprise. Shock. Fear. Horror. He reached for her, touching her mind with the Force, letting her love wash over him and his love do the same for her. In the back of his mind, Matthew hoped that the Holocrons could not sense what flowed between them.

When he had recovered control of his voice, the younger Master spoke. "The Hundred Years of Darkness was a time when great peril tore the galaxy apart. Dark Siders created chaos and came very near to destroying the Force itself as we know it."

"And what were those Dark Siders called?"

It was a simple word. So simple. Only four letters in the English language. But that one word took all of Matthew's will to say. "Sith."

Coven nodded.

"But the Sith have been extinct for a over a thousand years. Since before the beginnings of the Republic."

Coven shook his head. "And yet here you are. Confronted with a problem only a Sith Lord could have caused. Or possibly many."

"If the Sith have indeed returned, then the galaxy is in greater danger than we first thought."

Ductavis smiled sadly. "I may never have encountered the Sith, but I know many things of the Force. I believe I may be of some use to you, Master White."

Matthew fixed his attention on the first Grand Master. "How do I awaken our children?"

"Their minds seem to have shut down. Almost like a coma."

Instead of answering, Ductavis turned his piercing eyes onto Coven. "Master Coven. What effect does the Dark Side have on an individual? Could it be described, perhaps, as a form of mental trauma?"

Coven nodded slowly. "Jedi are often trained to resist external effects, changes in the currents of the Force. But Younglings, children who are not even fully fledged Jedi, are often vulnerable to shifts. They may be untrained, but in many ways this is precisely their downfall. They do not have the control and training of a master. They cannot ride the currents of the Force. And their minds become overwhelmed, retreating from the physical realm."

"And because of this darkness, this trauma," Ductavis said in a slow measured voice. "Their minds simply go to sleep."

"Like a deep trance," Matthew whispered.

"Precisely."

"Their minds are lost. Deep within themselves. In order to awaken them, you must help then find their way back to the surface."

Matthew leaned in, anticipation rising within him. An uncontrollable force that made his breathing pick up and his mind race a mile a minute. So close. "There are several healing techniques that come to mind. Techniques even I know."

Coven regarded him gravely. "Jedi healing techniques may work. But if you truly wish to succeed, you must do more." He held up a hand to stop the impatient living Jedi from speaking. "You must see the Light through the Darkness. And help the Younglings to do that as well."

It was not Matthew who spoke, but Sylvia. Her voice was filled with determination and her eyes blazed. "Then we will find a way to do just that."


	5. Chapter 4: Battle in the Skies

Chapter 4

Battle in the Stars

Preparations for the Mosquito-class heavy shuttle's departure were well under way. The ship was powered, engines primed and ready. Her crew was in place, with Ayrin at the helm, Fal in the co-pilot seat. Caleb sat, brow furrowed, fingertips splayed together in front of his face in a posture of deep thinking. Maya was in the engine room with Taria. And the Padawans manned the other consoles in the back of the cockpit. The only one missing was Jeremy. The lights were dim, with the main sources of illumination being provided by computer screens and electronic status lights.

Caleb's thoughts however, were not on his brother's lateness. They were on Antares. It had been days since communications with the colony in the Unknown Regions had been lost. And since then, no one had been able to restore them. A dark haze clouded the Jedi's thoughts on the matter. If Raymond were here, perceiving what was about to happen would be easier. But alas, Caleb had to make do with his own danger senses. Said senses were setting off alarm bells all over his mind, telling him something was majorly wrong. It could not be a coincidence that the terrorists had been tracked this far, only to have their destination point be cut off from the Republic.

"I've been able to raise the Praxeum." Jeremy's voice seemed to come from a long way off. Caleb, lost in thought, barely even heard him. He had not even noticed his Force signature move onto the bridge. It wasn't until his brother continued that he jerked his mind back to the present. "According to Captain Yates, we will be passing arriving at Antares within minutes. I felt it best to alert Master White before going in."

Caleb nodded. "Good, good. Any final words of advice from him?"

Some chuckles went about the briefing room at this. Jeremy let it die out before continuing. "Nope. All he said was 'May the Force be with you'." He paused again. "He seemed exhausted."

Somber heads nodded. All had been informed of the crisis their Younglings faced and the difficulties in awakening them. Caleb had spent three hours in a private conference with Matthew, Raymond, Sylvia and Yaddoa. After those three hours, he had been vague with details on how exactly the crisis would be solved. Something about "seeing the Light through the Dark" and "deep meditation". It was as if Matthew himself did not know his own plan. As if, in an act of desperation, the Jedi on Earth had resorted to some form of drastic measures. No doubt they would discover what those measures were when they returned from their mission to recover vital military Intel.

The comm chimed a series of soft musical beeps. Fal quickly leaned over and flipped a switch, projecting a miniaturized hologram of Captain Yates to be displayed in between the computer consoles. She frowned up at the Jedi. " _Mosquito_ , we are dropping out of light speed in twenty seconds. Your orders are to find the freighter, secure our Intel."

"What of the crew?" Ayrin asked boldly.

The corner of Yates' mouth curled. "Take them alive. But if they resist, which make no mistake, they will, then you are to deal with them by any means necessary. Do you understand?"

All heads nodded. Though the Jedi valued life, it was no secret that they would not hesitate to kill if they had to, albeit with great reluctance. When Captain Yates was satisfied, she nodded approval. "Good. Captain Yates out."

Jeremy was the first to speak. He glanced at the navi computer over Ayrin's shoulder. " _Integrity_ will exit light speed in twelve seconds." He clambered through the hatch down to the gun turret situated directly underneath the cockpit. "All weapons report ready, Caleb."

The shuttle groaned and trembled as the larger vessel decelerated. _Integrity_ stabilized, approaching the planet with the other four cruisers close behind. Caleb knew this by watching the sensor screen. A small green circle blinked on the center of the radar screen with the technical readout of the flagship. His brow furrowed. Something was wrong. Close to the planet's gravity well was the freighter they sought. As expected. What was unexpected was the fleet of blips surrounding that freighter. And the waves of darkness emanating from each and every one of those blips.

"Captain Yates is hailing us," Taria reported grimly.

"Put her through."

The grim-faced captain appeared, a holographic woman sitting in a holographic chair surrounded by holographic figures. Her eyes instantly snapped up to Caleb's. "Master Jedi, we have a problem."

"I noticed."

"It appears to be a large number of Destroyer-type ships. They're in blockade formation but moving fast to engage. You will have one chance to get the freighter. I'd suggest departing now."

The Jedi Master nodded slowly. "We will not fail this time." Captain Yate's image faded. _Integrity_ buckled under what was probably a barrage of weapons fire. At the same moment, the hangar doors hissed open with a groan and a creak of grinding gears. Stars were visible as tiny pinpricks of light against the blackness of space.

Without needing a verbal command, Ayrin engaged the repulsorlifts. The _Mosquito_ creaked and lifted off the flight deck. "Hydraulics engaged, all systems steady. Taking us out now." She gave the engine a test rev before flying straight out of the hangar.

Turbolaser fire was already streaking past them as the enemy fleet fired all forward guns at the Republic fleet. The durable Yorktown cruisers returned fire in kind. Explosions ripped apart the vacuum of space. Shields sparkled into visibility again and again as turbolaser and point defense laser barrages slammed into it. Ayrin swung about to point the _Mosquito_ towards the planet and accelerated rapidly. The force of the sudden movement forced the Jedi back into their seats until the compensators adjusted and they could breath normally.

Antares was a beautiful planet with lush forests given life by deep, flowing rivers. Its oceans were vast, almost as vast as Earth's. But it wasn't the beauty of the planet, surrounded by smaller moons that caught the attention of the Jedi. Oh no. It was the squadron of a dozen destroyers surging forwards to greet the Republic. Starfighters streaked from hangars, flying in tight formation through massive clusters of turbolaser fire and streaks of laser beams before the survivors of the carnage streaked off in various directions. X-wings and E-wings clashed with the enemy fighters.

Solar panel wings protected ball-shaped cockpits. Green laser fire streaked from the guns mounted on the bottom of the pod. The fighters were fast and maneuverable, but even a cursory scan revealed their poor quality. No shields, only two cannons. But they were many. The Republic fighter squadrons, only numbering about 60 fighters total, were outmatched.

As Ayrin drove the ship deep into the heart of the enemy formation, it became apparent that the Republic squadrons were doing their best to divert the attention of the enemy craft away from the Jedi. Yates had placed the _Integrity_ at the front of the battle and was driving her squadron through the left flank of the enemy formation like a wedge to separate two enemy destroyers from the rest while _Salvation_ and _Enterprise_ peppered them with fire. Caleb could not help but spare the battle a glance as the ships rolled on their axis, not managing to dodge the oncoming horrifying destruction the Republic cruisers were attempting to inflict, but managing to scatter the impacts of the blasts so that instead of puncturing the shields at specific point with enough force to shatter the energy field, the strikes of cannon barrages impacted all over the ship.

 _Salvation_ and _Enterprise_ peeled away from the other three cruisers in one beautifully executed dive, streaking towards the two foe's underbellies. The turbolaser barrels raised in their turrets and began pounding away while the point defense laser cannons affixed to the edge of the saucer section drove off fighter attempts to break their deflector shields.

The fighters swerved and juked, evading shot after shot. As they closed in, guns blazing against first the _Salvation_ , then the _Enterprise_ with lethal accuracy. _Cambridge_ attempted to pull closer to reinforce the _Enterprise's_ shields with her own, but to no avail. A cluster of turbolaser batteries opened up from the destroyers now closing fast on their starboard sides, forcing them to separate. _Integrity_ swerved, her saucer section turning to pierce the heart of the enemy formation like a knife through butter. Her guns spat fire in all directions and the destroyers broke formation to avoid being hit. One peeled off, a burning wreck with multiple holes spouting debris. Another volley from three separate cruisers as they swung past and the ship exploded.

As the other four cruisers swerved, a synced maneuver with their flagship, the enemy fighters finally managed to pierce the shields on _Enterprise_. Explosions ripped through her hull. She kept going, blasting at the fighter squadron. This time _Cambridge_ was able to assist and the two cruisers caught the dozen or so fighters in a web of crisscrossing laser beams that turned what once had been tiny ships into smoldering fireballs of wreckage. X-wings swerved to avoid the debris before looping around the blazing holes in the saucer section of their cruiser. At a command from the squad leader their guns opened up. More fighters that had been attempting to take advantage of the gaps in the shields of the ship were caught by surprise. Or so it seemed for a moment. Then they closed ranks and returned fire with lethal accuracy. One. Two. Three X-wings exploded. The Republic fighters scattered and attempted to outflank, but the enemy fighters were faster and caught them in a circle of ships instead. Desperate pilots swerved and jerked about, narrowly evading death by as close as millimeters. Four. Five. As the X-wings attempted to get a lock on their attackers, _Cambridge's_ laser cannons spat bright blue particle blasts. Several fighters exploded. That was all the assistance _Cambridge_ was able to deliver however, several enemy destroyers began pounding her with cannon fire and her top engine nacelle exploded in a blinding blast, the shockwave from which hurtled the cruiser out of formation and into the nearest destroyer. Another blinding flash of light. When the light faded, all that was left of the two ships was smoldering debris.

Yates' voice came over the comm, a military frequency of which every ship in their fleet had access to. " _Enterprise_ , how badly are you hit? Over?"

The _Enterprise's_ captain responded in a calm voice, but Caleb could sense his fear and concern for his ship through it. His mask was not impenetrable, especially to a Jedi. Caleb leaned forwards, listening carefully. "Major damage, hull only. No internal systems damaged but we will need cover fire." Static blurred some of the words, making it hard to hear. But the message was clear.

"Not sure we can oblige. Our shields are nearly down." A quick scan of the _Integrity_ revealed this to be true. All ten destroyers were peppering the Republic ships with an unrelenting storm of fire. Explosions ripped space around them, brief flashes of fire that vanished as quickly as they appeared. Just as many explosions ripped into the hulls of the cruisers, jagged metal fragments and frozen bodies spilling into space from the burning holes created by the barrages.

Ayrin's voice cut through Caleb's intense focus on the battle. "Freighter dead ahead." Caleb jerked his head round. The Andor-class freighter was nearly in the atmosphere. And was quite large on the viewscreen in front of him. He could almost see the details, the contours of the ship down to the metal plating over the engine nacelles.

"Prep to board. Ready docking clamps." His voice was calm, barely loud enough to be heard over the thunder of concussive blasts rocketing and exploding around them. The ship shook as squadron of enemy fighters opened fire. They had come from the atmosphere, streaking past the freighter to attack the Jedi.

"They must have a ship or a base on the planet," Jeremy said as he sprinted to the gun turret below the cockpit. "Locking on."

Caleb reached out with the Force. Now those minute details that had been beyond his notice suddenly came into focus. And with the Force, his perceptions of the world changed. His mind was open to its currents, to its ebb and flow. It was easy to sense the small number of lifeforms aboard the freighter, and the boiling thundercloud that was the simmering rage in the Dark Sider they were up against.

So intense was his focus on the freighter that he almost failed to notice one important thing. The enemy starfighters. There was no sense of life emanating from the cockpits as they maneuvered and pivoted, changing angles to avoid Jeremy's barrage of blasterfire from the forward turrets. Fireballs blossomed in space as laser fire tore through metal, burning holes into the fighters. Surviving fighters reformed their formation, coming on again. And again, Jeremy repelled them. The Padawans manned the other gun consoles and gave aid, targeting fighters.

As this battle carried on, Ayrin maneuvered the small ship underneath the freighter. "Docking port in five seconds."

It was glorious. Kornath watched the battle play out from the bridge of the freighter. His fingertips grasped the edge of the command chair, still as rods. There was no anxiousness in his body. Not an ounce of fear or trepidation. The battle was all but won. With one Republic ship already destroyed and the four others barely managing to weather the storm the Sith ships wrought.

Even so, the assassin was impressed by the skill with which the cruisers conducted themselves. They fared better than expected, destroying two destroyers and damaging another three. But their resistance was beginning to crumble.

And the shuttle. The Jedi shuttle. The pathetic strike force that the Republic had sent to recover their Intel. To 'bring him to justice', no doubt. The Jedi's resolve to capture instead of killing would be their downfall. Kornath was certain of that. It would be easy to turn the tables against them. The ship shuddered as their shuttle connected with his own vessel. He took in a deep breath, then released it in a long, drawn out sigh. "Time to go." He directed the command at his lieutenants.

A'Ren and Tol shouldered blaster rifles and nodded. "Understood, sir." They departed the bridge in haste. Kornath did not have to follow them or watch them on the security cameras to know they were gathering the rest of the team of mercenaries he had been forced to take along by the Dark Council. Nor did he have to see the strength of the Jedi to know those mercenaries would be useless. No. Not useless, he corrected himself. They would last long enough for him to get to an escape pod. And deliver the Intel to Lord Koridan.

The assassin turned to the reprogrammed droids at the helm. Each KS-0D pilot droid manned its console with the mechanical efficiency they were known for. "Maintain course. Rendezvous at the coordinate I told you."

A droid nodded. "Understood." Its emotionless, toneless voice did little to ease the growing doubt in his chest. The little voice in his mind that told him that one Sith was no match for the undoubtedly numerous band of Jedi after him. He silenced that voice himself.

"Maintain the bridge. I will not be returning."

"Sir?"

"You do not need an explanation. Maintain the bridge."

"Understood." The droid had not even bothered to look up from its duty. It held the ship firm against the shaking from the atmosphere. Yellow-white clouds burned around the ship as the shields warred with the planet itself. Energy met energy in a deadly, yet beautiful inferno that engulfed both ships.

Kornath spared this inferno one glance from the viewscreen. It didn't take a genius to work out that they were in no danger as long as the shields held. Which they would because the Jedi had docked instead of opening fire and the Republic fleet was battered almost into submission. Without a backward glance, he stormed off the bridge. The datachip in his pocket gave him a sense of purpose. A determination blossomed within him, telling him not to fail. He knew the price of failure. And knew the reward of victory. A chance to be recognized as a legend among Sith. The Sith who was responsible for the swift, decisive victory over the pathetic Republic and Jedi Order that would soon follow this battle.

He stalked through the ship, making his way through the unfamiliar lit corridors. In the days since hijacking this ship from Earth, he had spent most of his time on the bridge or in his quarters. This ship would be destroyed or put to use in the Sith armada. No use to learn its corridors, its nuances. Letting the Force guide him, he made his way to the engine room. It was deserted, save for droids. The Banking Clan crew that he had slaughtered days previously had relied to heavily on mechanical crewmembers. Less payroll, Kornath supposed. More profits for them. With a wave of his hand, he soundlessly cast a protection spell over the entrance. A barrier to stall any Jedi that might stumble across this. And he could use it to lead them astray.

With a concentrated effort, he conjured an illusion of himself, infusing it with enough dark power that it might be enough to confuse the Jedi. The illusion flickered, a transparent version of himself. Kornath narrowed his eyes at it. He could never get it to look just right. No matter. It would be enough to fool from a distance. He sent it down a conduit. That would draw them away.

He sprinted across the engine room to another conduit that led to another important part of the ship's internal engine complex. The Force nudged him into it, telling him it would lead him in a round about way to the escape pods.

Before he had taken ten steps, he felt the Force surge in a display of power that rocked him. He probed the Force, searching the ship for the source of that surge of Light Side energy. There were multiple. All moving fast, fanning out. Each a repulsive signature of calm and clarity. Kornath's blood boiled in rage. He latched onto that rage, fueling it into a furnace of power that channeled through him. His lightsaber found his hand without conscious thought and the crimson blades spat into existence. A quick flourish brought both blades around his body in a whirling arc of crimson. Kornath studied the blades as he reigned in the fires of his heart that smoldered and the yellow flames that flickered behind his eyes slowly faded. Now was not the time to fight the Jedi. But soon. He deactivated the blades and returned the saber to his belt. The escape pods. That was where he was needed.

When he exited the conduit, he found himself in a dimly lit corridor with the only lights coming from emergency lights lining the walls. Sighing, he realized that the Jedi must have shorted out the power grid. Whether by design or not did not matter.

Kornath's danger senses were becoming more active. When he looked to the right, all he saw was the dimly lit corridor. But to the left was a faint yellow line. Clearly intended for him to follow. He smiled to himself. The power he commanded had not let him down. The only sounds were the wail of alarms and of his own feet as he sped down the indicated route. Before long, the escape pod bays were in sight. His pace quickened, footsteps speeding up of their own accord.

Alarm bells rang in the Force, a sound only his mind could hear. With desperation fueled by the Dark Side, he threw himself on the floor as a sizzling bar of light whirled overhead. It missed him by inches, carving a scorching line into the wall before abruptly changing course. As Kornath rolled to his feet, he spun, seeing the lightsaber return to the hand of the Jedi who had thrown it. The Jedi, a woman, was charging towards him. She leapt onto the wall, continuing her run as she caught her lightsaber with deft precision.

Obviously a Jedi of skill. Kornath's saberstaff found his hand and the crimson blades ignited once more to meet the blue blade of the female Jedi's. But their blades didn't meet. She shot past him with the speed of a projectile fired from a cannon and kicked off the wall to somersault through the air, landing in an attack stance between him and the escape pods.

She hesitated. Before she could summon words, Kornath was on her. He had no time for games or banter. His blade flashed and whirled in a complex pattern. As their blades collided again and again, he could sense her difficulty fending off his technique. Clearly, she was ill equipped to deal with a saberstaff, having been trained to face more conventional weapons. Their blades crackled and sparked as she parried stroke after stroke, always on the defensive. Kornath's goal was simple. Drive her back to impale her against the door to the escape pods.

She took another step back. And another. He could easily recognize her form as standard Soresu maneuvers. An all-defensive form. Typical of a Jedi, he thought with a sneer. Never attacking. Never doing what needed to be done. It was why they were inferior to the Sith. Why he would kill her.

As if reading his thoughts, the Jedi smirked. "You won't win so easily. Sometimes a fight is never a goal. It is only a distraction from the true goal."

His sequences slowed by a fraction as he processed her words. The red and blue weaves of energy sizzled and arced around them as they fought. He decided he didn't care. His blades flashed faster and faster as he redoubled his efforts to kill her but this time something was off. Instead of crumbling under the pressure she met him blow for blow. Instead of throwing up the brick wall that was Soresu, she integrated fluid and dynamic blade work attempting to pierce his guard even as he sought to pierce her heart. He altered the angles of his blades to catch her attacks, spinning his saberstaff in a deadly circle to create a defensive wall of his own before transitioning back to powerful full body slashes and chops. With a sickening jolt, like an armored punch to the gut, he realized something. She had his measure.

With a growl, he swung his saberstaff low and back up around his body to the other side. She batted each attack aside easily and drove forwards with a series of lunges and sweeping slashes that he back flipped to avoid. While he was in midair he lashed out with his right arm and the power of the Dark Side coursed through his body, from mind to arm to hand, pouring out through his fingertips. He felt rather than saw the Jedi fly back into the door with a sickening crack. Sounded like she'd broken a bone.

Kornath could only hope as he landed. The Jedi was already back on her feet but wincing from the impact. He lunged again and this time her movements were slowed. With her back to the door all she could do was redirect his attacks to the sides. Their blades carved burning lines through the titanium door. Metal melted and peeled back. The Jedi caught one blade in a bind and drove it through the locking mechanism. The door hissed open and she staggered back. Kornath sneered again. She had allowed him access to the escape pod bays.

He pressed his attack with confidence. His steps were measured, his strokes powerful. But something felt wrong. The Dark Side seemed in flight. He could not shake the feeling that something had gone terribly wrong in his plans.

It was a moment before the assassin saw it. There were no escape pods. With another sickening jolt, Kornath realized that the Jedi must have planned this ambush. They had known he was coming here and triggered all the escape pods before he could. CURSE THEM! He disengaged and growled at the Jedi.

Said Jedi did not press her attack. She smirked at him. "I told you so."

"How?"

The voice that answered him was male. And came from somewhere to the right, in the shadows of the small bay. He recognized the Jedi he had engaged at Earth as a green bar of light appeared in his hand. This Jedi's features were hard with determination. And his voice was cold as steel. "Your illusion almost had us fooled."

"You knew I was coming here."

"You made one mistake." Kornath cocked his head, wondering what that could be as the Jedi went on. "Your illusion was imbued with your Force signature. Master Temple was able to tap into that signature to find you."

Kornath cursed himself. He wanted to scream, to punch something. How could he have not known that was a possibility? With great effort, he channeled the rage within him to his hands. That rage would fuel his passion. Through passion he gained strength. And through strength he gained victory. The blades held loosely at his side began to whirl through the air as he spun his lightsaber in a circular motion, building momentum. That momentum carried him into a spinning attack, feinting towards the female Jedi before spinning to engage the male. He leapt to swing at the man's head and was met with a duck as the Jedi slid under his attack and sprang to cover the female.

"If you take me to a transport, I'll allow you to die swiftly," Kornath informed them. He knew it was a bluff. That he stood little chance of beating these two Jedi before their comrades came to aid them. But it would buy him time to think of plan.

The Jedi exchanged incredulous glances. The male was the first to reply. "As if we would ever stoop so low."

"The Sith will rule the galaxy. It is inevitable. Resistance is futile, Jedi." Kornath's voice deepened into finality.

This time it was the Jedi who lunged. The male came on in a swift series of attacks, jabbing and feinting as his green blade sought gaps in Kornath's defenses. The Sith deflected the strikes and was about to retaliate when the female leapt from the left side, cutting him off from the door. He spun into a reverse ankle sweep that would have caught the male by the ankle and sent him stumbling had he not overleapt it. On his return spin, he slashed at the female with a series of crisscrossing strikes that she parried, stonewalling his saber with her own. Try as he might, he could not break her guard with two Jedi attacking him. He pivoted and ducked, letting those few strikes his two crimson blades could not parry slip harmlessly past him.

Strike after strike was parried. Jabs were harmlessly batted aside. Powerful chops and cleaves were batted aside, the strength of the Force enhanced blows sending shudders through arms. Thrusts were parried or sidestepped. Kornath saw the room through a multi-colored haze. Each lightsaber whirled patterns through the air so fast that no eye could follow it. Only the speed and reflexes gifted by the Force saved them from losing life or limb.

Kornath knew other Jedi had to be coming. Could sense them coming past the electric haze that filled his vision. Tightening his grip on his saber, he suddenly reversed his spinning motion. The effort nearly cracked his wrist, but the crimson blades arced in another pattern, disorienting both Jedi long enough for Kornath to throw a kick at the female's gut. She folded over like a crumpled tin can and the Sith leapt, accessing the Force and riding a wave of its power towards the door. His feet touched the deck and he ran.

There was no other way out. Except for maybe the lifeboat attached to the bridge. It was standard procedure for bridge crews to have a way off the ship in case the way to the escape pods was compromised. And in this case, that boat was Kornath's only way off the ship. He ran. The Jedi pursued, but he had a head start. Neither of them knew the ship. Each would have only the Force as a guide.

A fist swung out to block his vision. It moved so fast it was there before he could blink. Before the thought to duck had fully formed in his mind the fist crashed into his nose. He felt blood spurt and bones crack and he crumpled.

He couldn't help but wonder where the blazes this Jedi had come from as he saw the man step into view from behind a branch-off corridor. The man was tall, with brown hair and a dangerous gleam in his eyes. From the waves of the Force radiating off him, Kornath could tell, even in his half-stunned state, that this man was a Master. A true Master of the Light. And this knowledge brought a very, very bad feeling into the pit of his stomach.

All this flashed through his mind in a heartbeat. He stepped back, transitioning the step into a reverse Shun spin that brought his lightsaber around his body and into an attack stance.

The Master did not bother with his lightsaber. He didn't bother fighting him at all. He just extended a hand and unleashed a mighty push of Force energy. Kornath felt himself being blasted off his feet to slam into a wall with the force of a cannon blast. Pain shot through his back and he slumped to the floor.

He looked up to see the Master striding towards him, boots slapping against deck in a rhythm. Clearly a military man...Kornath got no further before the darkness mercifully claimed him, allowing him to escape his fate.

As the _Integrity_ pivoted and swung through maneuver after maneuver, Yates could not help but feel the sinking feeling that knowing defeat was inevitable brought. Though the Jedi had boarded the freighter, forcing most of the enemy fleet to reevaluate their plans, the continued assault on the Republic cruisers was too much for them to withstand. _Enterprise_ had also been destroyed, leaving _Salvation_ and _Valiant_ to guard the flagship's flanks. Much as Yates trusted her fellow captains, _Salvation_ had lost shields and main power to most of her decks while _Valiant's_ engines were destroyed, resulting in the ship holding the status of an immobile gun platform for the duration of the battle. An easy target that the destroyers took full advantage of, raking her saucer section repeatedly.

The enemy fleet had reformed a tight blockade formation, no longer attempting to surround them. All starfighters on both sides had been destroyed either by the crisscrossing clusters of turbolaser and anti-starfighter fire, or by the starfighters themselves.

Chunks of debris fell into the atmosphere as pieces of burning wreckage were yanked by the planet's gravity and forced into steep descents. Most pieces burnt up, but some crashed to the surface.

Yates barely paid attention as Thompson barked orders. "Roll us starboard! Lock turbolasers on the nearest target! Focus fire on damaged sections!" She was focused on one thing. The freighter. The battle was lost for them but if those blasted Jedi could pull through they might be able to salvage this whole operation. She kept her features professional, not allowing one trace of the panic building within her to show on so much as a single line on her face. Her crew needed her calm and her leadership now.

"Belay that order!" she snapped, barely aware she had spoken. "Commander Thompson, have _Salvation_ prepare a full spread of proton torpedoes with delayed fuses. Set timers for two-minute detonation. And have our gunnery officers do the same."

"Sir?" The first officer was obviously bewildered.

Yates whipped her head around to look at him. "Even if the torpedoes get shot down, it'll give them something else to shoot at."

The man nodded. "Aye, sir." A few strokes of his keyboard and clicks on his panel followed this. A moment later he added, "Sir, _Salvation_ reports they are readying torpedoes, but will have to come about to launch the torpedoes from the aft launchers as the fore ones are down."

Yates nodded. "Withdraw to a range of two thousand kilometers."

"What of _Valiant_?" Lal asked. He kept his chair facing front, focused on the battle. As a good officer should do. Even with this rendering his voice almost unable to be heard over the impacts of cannon fire against the ever-dwindling shields of the cruiser, Yates could hear the surprise in his voice.

She smirked. "Have them abandon ship and set primary reactors to blow at the same time as the torpedoes."

"Captain, escape pods will be nothing more than cannon fodder in this battle!" Thompson reminded her.

"Tell them to use the shuttlecraft. Head straight for us, we'll lower our aft shields only to let them in."

Thompson, Sorva and Arden exchanged nervous looks, wondering if the captain had gone mad. After a moment's hesitation they both carried out their orders. When the two other cruisers signaled ready, they informed the captain and nodded at the order to launch torpedoes.

At the same moment as the torpedoes fires, Lal reversed course, backing the cruiser away from the fleet while keeping her bow and forward guns trained on the destroyers. This was slower, but a slightly more effective in this situation, method of getting away from enemies. This gave Sorva the opportunity to coordinate all four of the forward turbolaser cannons on a single target and blow it to bits, bringing the total number of enemy ships to nine. Several more had been damaged, but not yet disabled.

"Torpedoes away, Captain." On the viewscreen, they watched the tiny black modules that were the unpowered torpedoes. It took a moment for the enemy destroyers to catch onto the threat. The focus of the turbolasers shifted, ceasing their unrelenting pounding on the Republic cruisers, to attack the torpedoes.

Meanwhile, _Integrity_ and _Salvation_ backed away as fast as they dared. Yates barked orders to her crew with crisp military precision. The thrusters on both cruisers fired, propelling them back and away from _Valiant_ , which was listing in space with smoke trailing from her nacelles. Holes had been blown into her saucer section and the front half was dangerously close to breaking away.

Her shuttles deployed and streaked towards the cruisers until the cover fire of turbolasers. As the shuttles entered the aft hangar bays, aided by tow cables in the cases of the few craft that were disabled by half-hearted attempts to shoot them down, the remaining torpedoes and the crippled _Valiant_ exploded. One explosion after another ripped through space. Fireballs blossomed around the destroyers, unleashing powerful shockwaves that hammered the shields of the vessels.

Then came the debris. Caught in the gravitational pull, much of the debris that had not been jettisoned past the gravity range of the planet flew towards Antares with alarming speed. Yates could not resist a smirk as she watched the enemy fleet careen out of the way. And through the terrifying beauty flew the triangular _Mosquito_. Whoever was at the helm was clearly a masterful pilot. The ship dodged debris and cannon fire with astonishing ease, slipping from side to side, up and down and spiraling into lazy loops that slipped obstacles by meters.

When she spoke, her voice was professional as ever. "Helm, full about. Get us out of here."

With a grim face, Thompson added, "Keep the aft hangar door open." The orders were carried out with reluctance. With their aft shields down, the engine nacelles were completely exposed. And the enemy fleet could easily recover their composure at any moment. At the exact moment the _Mosquito_ adjusted its course and made for the _Integrity's_ hangar, the destroyers altered their course and began peppering the Jedi's ship with fire.

Yates switched the viewscreen to aft view to watch. The more intact ships surged forwards, maneuvering to cut the Jedi off while the damaged destroyers hung back to watch. "Get the aft guns laying down cover fire!"

Arden hastened to obey. The tubolasers began swiveling on their rotational module until they faced the planet. "Guns ready, Captain."

"Commence firing!"

With thundering roars that shook the ship, the turbolasers spat massive energy beams. One after another streaked into the cluster of enemy ships. They broke formation yet again and reformed at a point several degrees under the cruiser, out of range of the dorsal turbolasers. Arden had to adjust the ventral cannons to fire along vectors that avoided the nacelles while Lal swerved the cruiser in attempts to avoid the volleys of return fire that the destroyers sent back.

"Captain, _Mosquito_ has managed to transmit a coded message through the interference." From the triumphant expression on Arden's face, Yates assumed the news was good. "It's a Jedi frequency, but I've managed to piece it together."

"And?"

"Intel is secured. If they can get here in time they'll land before we make the jump to light speed."

"Negative," Lal cut in. "Tachyon drive is inoperable, Captain. Engineering reports the main power core is disabled. We're losing power rapidly."


	6. Chapter 5: Antares

Chapter 5

Antares

While the battle at Antares was progressing, the Jedi still sought in the Force the answer to the problem. In an attempt to find out what the Grand Masters spoke of, each Jedi had spent the last few days either meditating or researching volumes in the Library. The great library that held every bit of information known in the Republic.

But Raymond did not join his comrades in the Library. Books were not for him. Motodata, Kiyomasa and Yaddoa could read until their hearts delight. He took a more direct approach. In his quarters, he sat cross-legged, eyes closed. A darkness. A storm cloud. A boiling well of blackness. This is what Raymond felt when he probed the Force. Like his fellow Jedi, he sought answers. A way to pierce to veil of darkness in the Force. Their children's lives depended on it. The image of the various Padawans and Younglings in the Medical Center, hooked up to IV tubes for sustenance, floated to the forefront of his mind and fuelled his desire for answers. He brought all his energies to bear, meeting the veil head to head.

It did not budge. The darkness withstood the light. An iron curtain over the Force. It had been days since Matthew and Sylvia had consulted the Holocrons. See the Light through the Dark, the ancient Masters had said. Raymond's brow furrowed in concentration. He knew how to connect to the Force, to draw on its power, to center himself in its embrace. And yet, nothing. The Force itself seemed to be covered by the veil and what energy leaked through did not contain what he needed.

Maybe that was the problem.

Raymond opened his eyes. He had to blink several times to get the images out of his mind. Younglings. Veils. Black storm clouds on a horizon. When he came to, he was in his quarters. Sunlight crept through the blinds over the window, illuminating the small space in which he slept. There were few possessions. Jedi did not believe in wealth or personal gain. But nonetheless, Raymond kept a few knickknacks here and there.

See the Dark through the Light. Raymond repeated this to himself several times in his mind.

The presence of his wife Olivia brought him out of his thoughts. She was a thundercloud in the Force. The ex-Mandalorian was tough as nails, yet loving as anyone could be. A surprising matrix of contradictions and parallels. Right now her concern rang through her Force aura.

"Liv," Raymond said, rising. He donned his robes and threw up a smile.

"Breakfast." She handed him a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon with toast.

"Thank you." Raymond ate with gusto, not realizing how hungry he was until that moment. "How are you?" He set about devouring the food.

She shrugged. "Ok, I think." Raymond knew this was not true but didn't press it. Mandalorians weren't known for their skill with expressing feelings. Olivia in particular struggled with such things. He had learned from experience to let her open up on her own rather than forcing issues. It was a moment before she spoke again. "I'm just...scared?" Her voice sounded surreal, as if she herself had a hard time believing what she had said. He couldn't blame her. Scared Mandalorians was not something common in the galaxy.

Raymond nodded slowly. "I know. I am to." It was his two youngest, Jason and Jaina, aged twelve and eleven respectively, in the Medical Center as well. He swallowed the last of his breakfast, went to her and hugged her. She melted into his embrace and sighed.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know yet," Raymond told her. His voice cracked slightly as the calm he was feigning started to slip. "I've been searching the Force for answers. And yet, nothing."

Olivia furrowed her brows in concentration. She straightened in his arms as if she had never dropped her guard. "See the Light through the Dark."

"Easier said than done."

She pushed away and sat cross-legged on the bed. Raymond watched her brow furrow as he sat next to her. "Liv?"

"You said that...their minds...the Younglings...are in a trance?" Olivia asked tentatively. She turned her head to look at him and Raymond could see the uncertainty in her eyes. Due to her lack of Force sensitivity, she had much training in Jedi combat techniques, but the mysteries of the Force were foreign to her.

"I did."

"Almost as if they're asleep?"

"Yes."

Olivia sighed. "What if...what if that's the Dark?"

Raymond tilted his head, studying curiously. "What do you mean?"

"When you're asleep, your eyes close. So since their minds are asleep, what if seeing the Light through the Dark doesn't mean the veil you say is over the Force."

That made a great deal of sense. Raymond gave it a great deal of thought. Why hadn't he thought of that earlier? He felt like smacking himself upside the head. Of COURSE. The veil over the Force would not be lifted until whatever had caused it had been destroyed, taking the veil along with it. But that wouldn't solve the problem of the Younglings. Their minds had been shaken, causing the trance.

"Olivia...you may have just solved our problem." Despite himself, Raymond found a grin spreading across his face. He shot to his feet and made for the door.

Her eyes followed him. "Where are you going?"

He stopped at the door. It opened with a soft hiss as he turned to look at her over his shoulder. "Matthew needs to know about this." With a sigh, she got up and followed him as he vanished into the corridor.

Smoke billowed, filling the bridge with is acrid stench. The bridge lights flickered, threatening to cut out completely. Consoles and wall panels sparked and exploded. After the _Mosquito_ had taken a hit, the destroyers had turned their full fury on the remaining Republic cruisers. The return fire from the main turbolasers wasn't enough to destroy all nine, nor was it enough to force them to back off. A series of cannon shots had perforated the hull, ripping apart the two lower engine nacelles and causing a chain reaction throughout _Integrity's_ main hull.

"Status report!" Yates bellowed over the noise of a bulkhead exploding and skidding across the floor.

Lal scrambled back to the pilot's seat. His fingers flew over the controls, tapping buttons, pulling levers. The technical readout of the ship refocused with a diagram of the battle map. He gulped. "Captain! We're caught in the moon's gravitational pull! _Salvation_ reports they are trapped as well!"

Yates paled and exchanged a worried glance with Thompson. They both knew what that meant. Without impulse power, the gravitational pull would pull them into a swift demise on the moon's surface.

"Captain!" Arden barked. "I can't send a distress signal. They've jammed all long range transmissions."

Thompson jerked his head around to the viewscreen. The image had shifted from the fleet to the impending rocky surface. "Scan the moon. Find out if it's habitable."

 _Integrity_ pitched and bucked under another turbolaser barrage as Arden initiated a sensor sweep. Yates ticked off seconds in her head. It was as if she could feel her ship dying around her. She knew her ship had minutes. Maybe less. Seconds was more likely. The sensor sweep took longer than she wanted. "Sorva! Results! Now if you please." The logical part of her knew that it was likely due to slagged sensor cables or the antennae being damaged, but as the moon grew closer and closer, a large orb with clouds obscuring large portions of the surface. It was at least large enough to have its own atmosphere.

"Class M atmosphere. We can definitely survive down there, if we survive the crash."

"Good! Ensign, reroute auxiliary power to the impulse engines!"

Lal shook his head. "Captain, the nacelles are too badly damaged. Main propulsion is offline and we're venting atmosphere on several decks."

Thompson thumbed the intercom on. "Evacuate decks twelve through sixteen! All hands to your escape shuttles and escape pods!" A blast rocked the ship and sent him tumbling out of his chair onto the floor. As he clawed his way back to his feet he growled through his teeth. "Status of shields?"

Sorva gripped his console under the impact of another barrage. "Sir, shields are inoperable." His raspy voice held a hint of fear. It was held in check behind walls of training and disciple. But it was there nonetheless.

No shields. Power failing. _Integrity_ was certainly doomed. Yates reflected bitterly on her brief command of this vessel. It was a fine ship. One of the Republic's most advanced light cruisers.

A cruiser that was currently breaking apart. Yates pulled her mind back to the present. She strode forward to the helm and tapped Lal on the shoulder. "You're relieved, Ensign."

She ignored the Bith pilot's confused look and pulled him from the chair. "All hands, abandon ship." With deft strokes of her console, she routed all command functions to the helm and began firing the saucer section thrusters in an attempt to level the ship.

"Captain?" Thompson stared at her in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

Without turning her head Yates answered calmly, "I am, Commander. Get the crew safely to the surface." As she spoke, the cruiser entered the atmosphere. Burning streaks of fire trailed behind the ship as the bottom of the hull turned a bright orange as metal peeled off. With creaks and groans, _Integrity_ managed to level her descent. "MOVE!" With that, Yates slammed an emergency button with her thumb. Alarms blared.

"Abandon ship! Abandon ship! All hands, abandon ship!" The dull, mechanical voice was barely audible over the din of screeching metal as the exterior of the ship heated drastically. Hull plating and armor peeled back, disintegrating large chunks of the outer hull.

The bridge crew scrambled to the door. Thompson gave one last glance over his shoulder before leaving. Yates did not look back or around. She stayed focused on her task. Keeping the dying ship stable. Fire from the enemy had ceased. But the damage was done. _Integrity_ was on the verge of breaking apart. The hull buckled and the heat from the force of reentry was more than the scarred and pitted hull plating of the ship could handle.

Whatever power was not absolutely essential to keeping the few functional thrusters active, Yates made sure to divert to the hangars and escape pods. When Thompson transmitted the REQUEST LAUNCH code she released the clamps holding the pods in their place. _Integrity_ shuddered briefly as dozens of small, four-man pods shot from the ship. At the same moment, the escape shuttles from the _Valiant_ that had landed in the hangar backed out and engaged their impulse engines, streaking towards the pods to engage tractor beams. Each of the escape pods was essentially a box with engines. Capable of basic space flight to the nearest celestial body or starbase. But once caught in the gravitational pull of a planet or moon their thrusters were helpless and they would fall to their demise.

One by one, shuttlecraft grabbed pods with their small tractor beam projectors, leveling their descent as they broke through the atmosphere. The surface of the moon loomed beneath them, a sprawling series of rocky mountains shrouded in mist and fog. Yates spared a glance to the viewscreen. She could see the shuttlecraft with the pods dangling beneath them as if hooked on some invisible cable and hoped that Thompson would pick up on her unspoken plea to take the crews to the mountain. It was a highly defensible spot. As the shaking of the cruiser intensified, Yates wondered what had become of the _Salvation_. The last remaining ship apart from the flagship hadn't been hit nearly as bad and as _Integrity_ had entered the atmosphere, she remembered seeing the ship still attempting to flee the battle, trying to execute an evasive sequence

No sooner had the thought entered her mind than her thoughts were jerked back to a much closer threat. Her ship lurched forwards. A highly unprofessional scream was torn from her lips in a moment of terror as _Integrity_ spun out of control. It took a moment before she was able to regain her composure and for a brief second she was able to appreciate that her bridge crew had evacuated.

The readouts before her told a terrible story. Both remaining nacelles had been ripped from the back of the ship and the resulting damage had knocked any pathetic attempt at stability Yates had been able to attain into oblivion. The ship spiraled uncontrollably. The base of the mountain drew closer and closer, lurching and jumping about. She had just enough time to accept her fate. She had bought enough time for her crew to live. Captain Emma Yates stared down the oncoming demise with the bravery she was known for. The bravery that had been instilled in her by the Republic she would ultimately give her life to protect.

 _Integrity's_ thrusters powered once more, a brief spark of ignition that died out before impact. The edge of the saucer section slammed into the rocks. Jagged fragments of mountain and near-molten shards of metal flew in all directions. Then the reactor blew, consuming both ship and rock in a blazing inferno.

From the bridge of the freighter, Kornath stifled a bloody nose as he watched the progress of the battle. With the Intel stolen from him, abandoning ship seemed pointless, especially once the Jedi had evacuated. The Jedi's shuttle had been hit, but somehow managed to slip through their lines to the surface of the planet behind them. He was still not sure which of the droid gunners manning each bank of weaponry on each of the destroyers his ship had rendezvoused with was in need of reprogramming. Perhaps it was all of them.

Regardless, the good fortune that was within his grasp astonished him. The Force was indeed with him today. As the last Republic light cruiser blew up spectacularly, he could not help but laugh. The droids piloting his ship paid him no heed. They were not programmed to comprehend humor. Or to ask questions beyond the scope of their duties.

The Jedi were trapped on the planet, with a wall of droids preventing their access to the freedom of space and the safety of their Republic home worlds. All of their military allies were dead. Or soon would be. The cruiser that had crashed on the moon had no doubt either blown up in the atmosphere or managed to land and deploy its crew to find a defensive position. No matter. The dark storm cloud that fast approached their position told him that his master was on his way.

A second later, massive readings on the sensor readout confirmed this. Kornath smirked. The Force was far ahead of this mere technology. That thought had barely finished when those readings translated to ships exiting light speed. First came wave after wave of destroyers identical to the ones that had battled the Republic. Rage-class, armed with multiple heavy cannons, Class 2 tachyon drive, light armor and shielding. Then came Demon class light cruisers. These doubled as blockade runners, equipped with stealth technology in addition to their armament of laser cannons and ion batteries, making them additionally lethal in combat. The next wave of ships to exit light speed consisted of Hellstorm class heavy cruisers and Harrower class dreadnaughts. Last were the Imperial class Star Destroyers. The most impressive sights to behold of the Sith armada. Massive wedge-shaped capital ships with sixty heavy turbolasers and sixty ion cannons.

Ships poured into the system, quickly fanning out into defensive positions. Each of the three planets in the Antares system found their orbits filled with Sith battleships deploying transport ships carrying legion upon legion of battle droids.

Kornath watched it all with a casual smirk on his face and a villainous laugh at his lips. The Jedi would easily fall. Both here and at Earth.

The comm chimed a series of soft beeps. Kornath did not even bother turning, using the Force to activate the holographic projectors before the droids had time to turn their heads towards the source of the chimes. A figure blossomed into being. A figure clad in a black tunic. His eyes would have blazed yellow if he had stood before Kornath in person. Instead, the holographic projection colored him blue from head to toe.

Kornath did not need to see those piercing yellow eyes to feel the power radiating from his Master. In his presence, the Sith pureblood was reminded that although he may have qualified as a Sith assassin, he was in the presence of a Lord. A Lord of the Sith. Tal Koridan. The Grand Admiral of the Sith military. Supreme commander of the invasion forces.

"Report, Assassin." The voice was curt, concealing a deadly calm that Kornath wished he could feel.

He knelt, bowing his head low. "Master, the Intel is within our grasp."

Before he could get farther, his master interrupted him. "Not words that fill me with confidence, Kornath. The Jedi have bested you." The words stung despite the ring of truth they held. The Jedi had bested him. Kornath stifled an angry retort. It would only be temporary. "You have rarely failed me. I trust you have a plan to redeem yourself."

He nodded. "The Jedi are trapped on the planet, their comrades pinned down on the moon. With enough droids, I can overwhelm all of them and deliver the Intel to you in at least one rotation."

"Half a rotation."

"Master?"

"If the situation is as manageable as you say, then half a rotation should suffice for you to find the Jedi. Their useless soldiers on the moon are of no importance. Focus all your efforts on the Jedi. I will need that information if we are to gain a swift victory over the Republic."

The Assassin nodded. "I will meet your armies on the surface?"

Koridan returned his nod with one of his own. "Yes. Do not fail me again."

"I will not, Master."

Without reply, the hologram winked out of existence. Kornath rose and strode off the bridge. He ignored the glances that might have resembled confusion that his droid pilots sent each other. The door hissed shut as the Sith exited.

"It's an interesting theory." Matthew rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Sylvia?"

Beside him, perched on the edge of the bed just as he was, Sylvia shook her hair out of her eyes with a sigh. Matthew, Raymond and Liv watched her as she gathered her thoughts. It pained Matthew to see how tired his beloved wife appeared to be. Ever since Jack and Erica had fallen victim to whatever had plagued the Force, she had not slept well, fighting on through dogged determination and brief meditations. She had poured tirelessly over texts in the Library, searching for answers long into the night. During the day, when she wasn't busy with the Economic Committee, she had meditated on the Force. And her search had been as futile as his own.

Finally she spoke. "I think it is the answer we seek. Thank you, Liv." She shot the Mandalorian Jedi a grateful smile that was returned.

Matthew stood. "Meet you in the Medical Center in ten minutes." He was clad in a nightshirt and pants. His long hair was disheveled from tossing and turning against the pillow. "We'll see what we can accomplish."

Raymond and Olivia had stood in the same instant. "Understood." They left the White's quarters. Silence fell. Matthew could sense a mixture of hope and fear swirling in his wife's head. He went to her and pulled her into a tight hug.

"I hope this works." Her voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper.

All Matthew could say was, "Me to." In the Force, he could feel the chance of success behind Olivia's words. It surprised him that none of the more knowledgeable Jedi had not thought of this. Not him. Not Ray. Not Motodata or Kiyomasa. In the end, he supposed it did not matter. Not as long as the Order's future was saved from their plight. "Ready?"

Sylvia nodded and got up. "I'll take bathroom first. You need food?"

"No. I'm good. I'll get something to eat after."

"Ok." She vanished behind the door to the restroom. Matthew turned his head towards the rather messy drawer that stood beside his side of the bed. Or rather, his and Sylvia's side of the bed, he thought with a chuckle. Being the head of the Jedi, Matthew felt rather justified in not keeping their quarters as tidy as some might expect. He was a very busy man, after all. Their quarters were nice and cozy, with a small kitchen and living room in one room, with two bedrooms adjoining that. One room was for their kids. The other was their room. It served as an office, with two desks next to each other along one wall and the bed on the far side. One of the restrooms of their quarters adjoined their room. It was home. This was the one place in the entire galaxy where he felt safe and loved.

It was far quieter than usual. As he slipped on his traditional black tunic and robes, he reflected upon the missing. The sounds of Jack and Erica bickering and laughing. Of Sylvia calmly scolding them about not using their training lightsabers in the kitchen. Of everyone groaning as he made some terrible pun. That had been absent over the last few days.

When Sylvia emerged from the bathroom, his head whipped around. Standing there in her own black and brown Jedi robes, she looked to him more breathtaking than the Northern Lights. Just as beautiful as the day he had first met her at the Jedi Praxeum.

"Matt." Sylvia sighed in amusement. "Matt you're staring."

"Sorry, love," he said with a smile. "Can't help it."

She rolled her eyes. "I love you, but you're a dork."

"I love you to."

Sylvia laughed. "I always will."

"Same."

She took his arm and linked hers through it. "Come on, Hun. Let's go." She nudged him towards the door and Matthew cooperated. The door hissed open before them as they ventured out into the hallways of the Praxeum. Few people were on these levels. This was where the living quarters for the Jedi and hired hands that maintained the Praxeum. Most of them were up and about.

"If it works, want to take the kids out for ice cream?"

Sylvia shrugged. "I don't know. Honestly, I just want them to be ok.

Matthew stopped walking so abruptly that Sylvia was whipped around to face him. He looked at her softly. She could see the fear behind the love with which he radiated towards her. "They will be, love. I promise."

She hugged him quickly, not caring who might happen upon them and he hugged her back both for her sake and his She could feel him relax in her arms. As his arms settled around her waist and he kissed her forehead, Sylvia couldn't help but relax either. "I hope."

"They will."

"Ok."

He pulled back just enough to be able to look into her eyes. "What?"

"Ok?" She cocked her head to one side.

"The kind of ok that means you believe me or the kind of ok that means you're trying to be strong."

The only honest answer Sylvia could give was "Both." And it was almost completely true. She would do anything to save her children. Anything. And she trusted Matthew to do the same. Together, they would succeed. And they would save the rest of the Younglings in the process. As a Jedi, attachments were frowned upon. Only those who passed certain tests to determine whether they were strong enough to not let those attachments blind them were allowed to marry and start a family. Once, Sylvia doubted their ability to have a family. But now, Matthew had proven his worth as a father and husband. And he reminded her constantly that she had proven her worth as a mother. Now she had great confidence in their abilities as a team.

She tilted her head up and kissed his lips. He returned the kiss softly and she felt one hand at her cheek. With a sigh, Sylvia pulled away. As much as she would've liked to continue, now was not the time. Matthew seemed to realize this as well. He smiled softly at her. "I love you, babe."

"I love you to." She blushed a little.

He took her arm again and they started walking. A comfortable silence fell between them. The kind of silence where one was content. Safe. Loved. Sylvia wrapped her arm around Matthew's shoulder and he let go of her arm, wrapping it around her waist.

The sound of a comlink going off broke the silence. Matthew sighed and reached with his free hand for the device. "Yes?"

Admiral O'Hare's urgent voice sounded from the small speaker on the top of the comlink, above the small control panel. "Master White, I have news."

"I'm listening, Admiral."

"The fleet under Captain Yates' command engaged an enemy fleet at Antares. The ships do not match any known records of any ships in existence." Matthew's breath went short and hard. He nearly missed the Admiral's next words. Caleb. Jeremy. Ayrin. Were they...? The Force gave no answers. "We lost contact with Yates shortly after. It appears transmissions are being jammed." The Admiral's words seemed to come from far away, as though they weren't registering in his mind. "Or it was, until we lost the transponder signals."

"Thank you for informing me, Admiral," Matthew said when his head stopped spinning. Sylvia touched his hand in reassurance. He shot her a quick, grateful smile to let her know she was alright.

"I'm not quite done." O'Hare's tone held a trace of irritation. "In the last few hours, several outposts along the northern borders of Republic space have gone missing. We've received the remnants of several transmissions made by those outposts before they vanished."

"And?"

There was a moment's pause. "The outposts were destroyed. Chancellor has called an emergency session of the senior military personnel in the system in half an hour."

Matthew sighed. "I'll be there, I suppose." Sylvia shot him a wide-eyed look of surprise that he ignored for the moment. "White out." He clicked the comlink off.

"Matt! Our kids!" Sylvia exclaimed.

"They will be safe in your care."

She sighed frustratedly. "Matthew, you have responsibilities here."

"I also can't ignore a direct order from the Chancellor. As soon as the meeting is over, I'll help you."

"Promise?"

He nodded slowly. "I promise."

Sylvia sighed again, but looked appeased. "I'll tell Ray where you've gone."

"Thanks, love," Matthew replied with a small smile.

She snapped her fingers and a split second later winked out of existence and Matthew knew she would rematerialize in the Medical Bay. He stared at the place she had occupied for a second longer wishing he could still feel her hand in his. So soft and warm. He could almost feel the warmth against his own skin.

With a sigh, he teleported himself to the hangar in the same manner Sylvia had. The hustle and bustle of technicians maintaining and repairing the Jedi's arsenal of ships, starfighters and speeders greeted him. He ignored them and made his way to Sylvia's speeder. Technically, it was not Sylvia's. It was the Jedi Order's. But Sylvia used that one so often it had been unofficially designated hers. And since Matthew's engine had fractured a motor coil, she had been kind enough to let him borrow hers whenever possible. He powered up the engines and keyed in the takeoff request. When he received the affirmative, Matthew took off through the open bay doors. Someone had ordered the doors to be opened, likely to let cool air flow into the hangar so as to not tax the Praxeum's AC units.

He quickly shot upwards into the traffic. There was less of it than usual. Must be the time of morning where most citizens have already reached their jobs, but somehow there's a lot of people milling about the traffic lanes. Eh no matter. He had other patterns. The speeder tilted to starboard as Matthew nudged it into an upcoming lane he knew would shorten his trip to the Senate by half. The last time he had been to the military headquarters division had not been pleasant. The time after he had been summoned to the Chancellor's office, where she had berated Alex and Fal, painting them as far more incompetent than he knew they were. Matthew had very little confidence this meeting would go well for the Jedi at all.

As expected, Raymond was not pleased to discover the reason behind Matthew's absence. He handled it well enough on the surface, but Sylvia knew him well enough to be able to sense the boiling storm cloud in the Force beneath his false aura of calm. She stepped back to allow him a moment to compose himself as he turned away. After a moment, he turned back to face her. "Let's get the Younglings awake."

Olivia hung back, watching in anticipation as Sylvia, Raymond, Yaddoa, Motodata, Kiyomasa and Hera formed a semi circle, sitting cross-legged on the floor in the center of the Medical Bay. Despite her lack of Force sensitivity, even she could feel the power radiating from the Jedi Masters.

Sylvia took the lead, feeling the rush of power through her bones. Instead of fighting it, she opened herself to it, allowing the currents of the Force to sweep her away. Her perceptions shifted. Though her natural eyes saw the room the same, the Force allowed her to see much further. She could see her fellow Jedi differently. Raymond was a thundercloud, a dangerous storm on the horizon. Hera was an open plain onto a sunlit meadow. Motodata and Kiyomasa were calm, tranquil oceans with hidden power beneath the ripples.

And the Younglings. The minds of the Younglings felt blank. Empty. She focused all her energies on one, a small Twi'Lek girl nearest to her and felt her fellow Masters doing the same to other students. Sylvia ignored them and focused her energies on the girl, reaching into her mind. And she could see it. Behind walls of emptiness, was the girl's signature, faint but there. The slumbering mind stirred as Sylvia's senses brushed against it, analyzing and gently probing. Sylvia's heart nearly broke at what she felt. She could tell the girl had not sensed her presence yet.

"I'm here." Her voice, both physical and mental projected out. She felt the young mind stir. "I'm here. It's ok, you're safe." She projected a wave of calming Force energies towards the girl, hoping to give her some form of lifeline she could use to draw her way back to conscious. This was a matter of wills. Neither Sylvia nor any of her fellow Jedi could not make any of the Younglings return. They could only show them the path to returning.

The girl's mind reached out, seeming to uncoil as she desperately reached for the lifeline. _That's it_ , Sylvia thought. _That's it_. _Come on_. She directed the words towards the girl. Tyone. The name rose to the surface of her mind. She smiled, recognizing the name from the few practice sessions she'd had the fortune to observe. As a mother would embrace a child, Sylvia mentally drew the Tyone in, projecting the image of hugging her tight. "You're safe. Come back to us, Tyone."

She felt Tyone's nod in the Force and released her. Once awakened from the trance, Tyone's mind existed in a state of meditation. Even for a Youngling, it was easy to end meditation. Seconds later, the young Twi'Lek's eyes opened. Medical personnel were on her in an instant, gently scanning her body. Sylvia barely noticed. She was deep in the Force, already turning her attention to the next Youngling. In the back of her mind she could sense Jedi moving to and fro from Youngling to Youngling. Her fellow Masters had already awakened several of them.

One by one, they worked. One by one, eyes snapped open. Some of the Younglings required more attention than others. The effort to return was more taxing for some than it was for others. And all of them had suffered. Their bodies had not seen proper nutrition for days. The Kitchens were hastily alerted. Water was given in small sips.

Through it all, the Masters continued to sit. Continued to meditate. The Force filled the room. The very atoms of the walls seemed to hum with its power. For those Masters, time was irrelevant. Did they sit for minutes? Hours? They could not say. All that existed was the Force. A liquid current that poured into the Jedi and out again, released in waves that, even without direct intent, caused a soothing effect on the shaken Younglings.

However, even Jedi tired. Even Jedi fell victim to fatigue. The Force flowing through them could not sustain them forever. The mental energy it took to keep up the currents flowing through them sapped them of their strength bit by bit.

Drawing on what strength she still could, Sylvia reached out once more. This time she didn't touch the nearest mind. She kept extending her senses in her search for one of two in particular. The first she found was her daughter. Her Erica. In her, Sylvia felt the same hollow emptiness she had felt in every other Youngling. Knowing it was her daughter hurt far more than she had expected. She had known what to feel...but couldn't help feeling as though she had failed her family in some way.

A gentle nudge from Hera brought Sylvia back into focus. With a flash of embarrassment, she realized those thoughts had leaked through her emotional shields. All the Masters, and probably a quantity of the Knights had sensed some of her deepest thoughts. With a sigh, Sylvia forced her barriers up and a second later reached out to Erica.

"Kiddo. Erica. It's me." She heard the words leave her mouth, but somehow felt as though they came from a long ways away. She felt the young girl's mind stir. A jolt of surprise and recognition. Then a wave of gratitude emanated from the direction of Erica's still body. Sylvia smiled faintly as she once again sent wave after wave of calming Force energies towards her. Through her fatigue, she was aware of Erica latching on and allowing her mom to draw her into a tight mental hug. "I missed you so much." Reluctantly, she released the hug and allowed Erica's mind to resurface from the meditation.

Once satisfied that Erica was awake, Sylvia searched the room for Jack. When she located him, she joyfully reached into the boy's mind. "Jack. Jack. It's me." Once again, the mind awoke. The boy stirred and uncoiled, almost seeming to look for the source of the voice reaching to him from far away. Sylvia had a mental image of trying to wake him and Erica up. Of calling their names from the kitchen before having to actually go into their rooms and pulling them out of their bed. It was just like that. Only, in the mental, rather than the physical. She hugged him as tightly and lovingly as she'd hugged her daughter, then released.

Jack's eyes snapped open. She felt his and Erica's weariness and dehydration. With a subtle nudge in the Force, she directed a nearby medic to them. Half a second later, she was looking for other minds to awaken. But there were none. Every Youngling in the Medical Center was awake. The room was a bustle of activity that being in the center of nearly overwhelmed her. In the Force, she was in the Medical Center, yet not at the same time. Her mind was free from her body's physical limitations. The activity had seemed far away.

The occasional distraught cry, the constant bustle of droids and Jedi medics, racing to and fro to supply cabinets, the shouting of instructions. In her exhausted state, even the Force could not help her fully block out everything. It was almost enough to make her head spin and she placed a hand over her brow.

Raymond leapt up from beside her and bounded somewhere she could not see. She felt him push past several Jedi to his children. Olivia was by his side in an instant and they relieved the short Rodian Knight who had been tending to him. Olivia cradled Jaina's head and lifted her up to better sip from her cup of water while Raymond placed a hand on Jason's shoulder and spoke quietly to him. Jason nodded slowly, almost experimentally. Then Raymond pulled the boy into a tight embrace. Sylvia turned her head to watch for a quick second, long enough to see tears forming in the Jedi Master's brown eyes and she decided to look away to give them some privacy.

Her limbs felt somewhat lighter. She could stand. She did and her legs wobbled for a moment. Hera put a hand on her arm to support her for the few seconds it took for Sylvia to fully balance herself. "Thank you." Hera nodded and let go. Sylvia looked around hopefully, looking with both eyes and the Force.

And there they were. Jack and Erica, looking pale and fragile, but alive. Very much alive.

Raymond's heart felt as full and as light as it had ever had. The scars of his past. Of Mandalore. The wounds that had been inflicted on his mental and emotional state that had left him a shell of his former self. They felt as distant as the tiny lights of stars at night. Because in his arms was his son. Alive and well. Beside them, his daughter. Jason and Jaina. He could sense Olivia's elation and joy. He smiled. He didn't even have to ask Olivia if she was alright. There was no doubt that she was.

"I'll tell Alex and Angel," he whispered to her.

She nodded happily. "They'll be delighted."

Raymond knew she was right. Their eldest children, Alex and Angel Shearin, both Jedi Knights barely entering adulthood, had been deeply concerned for their siblings. From his late night walks, driven from sleep by a restlessness brought about by worry, a worry he had not been able to tame, he knew Alex and Angel had spent many hours in the Medical Bay keeping watch over the younger Jedi siblings. It had touched his heart to see the love with which his kids all cared for each other. And it had eased the worry that had threatened to pierce his heart like a lightsaber blade, if only for a moment.

With the biggest smile on his face, he grabbed his comlink and keyed in two numbers. A beep signified their response and seconds later two voices said, "Hey, Dad. What's up?"

"They're awake."

Little explosions of happiness rippled through the Force, emanating from somewhere above and to the right. Joy and elation flooded his senses in a stronger measure than before.

"On our way!" Angel practically yelled. Beside him, Olivia chuckled and Raymond knew without having to ask that she was picturing their eldest daughter jumping about like a giddy schoolgirl. Which she probably was. She and Jaina were extremely close from what he could tell.

Alex's reply was more restrained, but Raymond had gotten to know his son well enough to hear the happiness and relief behind the mask of Jedi calm. "Be there shortly."

The meeting had gone basically the way Matthew had expected. Intelligence operatives had filled the Chancellor, himself, Admiral O'Hare, General Richards, Commander Wolf, not to mention several clone captains and Naval ship commanders, on recent events. Emma Yates' fleet destroyed. No contact from her, her crew or any Jedi. Several outposts destroyed.

Out of the corner of his eye, Matthew had been able to see the brow furrowing on Natalie's face. The way her jaw tightened and set. She was angry.

The intelligence operative at the head of the table, a woman named Adrienne Fowler, droned on. Her voice was soft and she spoke at a very fast pace in an accent clearly marking her as from the southern regions of America. Her uniform was crisp and freshly ironed and she stood frozen at attention as she spoke. The ships, according to her, that had destroyed the outposts along the border were of unknown origin. Fast and nimble ships, resembling the function of destroyer class ships.

"As you can see," she said as she pulled up a holo recording on the briefing table. The three-dimensional recording flashed into existence over their heads. Every eye turned from her to the ships displayed before them. "Too organized to be pirates, yet not any military we know to exist. The possibility of a new threat from the Unknown Regions cannot be discounted." The screen shifted, showing another outpost. Another battle. Too many ships for one outpost to handle.

O'Hare regarded her with a lifted brow. "Speculation can be dangerous, Lieutenant."

"Of course, sir." She inclined her head. "The outposts at Zen'Gara and Dython were unable to send any transmissions." She pressed a button on her datapad and the holographic image shifted to another security recording. "But the other five outposts that were attacked were able to transmit clear images of who attacked them. This is only the advance wave." The image showed destroyers swarming the outpost's defenses. Turbolasers and point defense laser cannons pounded away, ripping the destroyers apart in blossoms of fire and debris. But there were too many.

As the battle progressed, ships began pouring out of light speed. Matthew leaned forwards, watching with a hungry expression. Every bit of knowledge would help. His eyes widened as a massive wedge-shaped vessel emerged from light speed. Before the real space conversion was complete, the transmission was cut.

With Adrienne's demonstration finished, she stepped back and inclined her head politely to the Chancellor. A dangerous silence was left in her place. No one spoke. Or moved. Matthew sat impassively, probing the Force. Caleb and the rest of the Jedi strike team was alive. He knew it. He would have felt their deaths if they had died in whatever battle had taken place.

"Admiral," the Chancellor said in a voice of controlled fury. "What do you make of this report?"

O'Hare cleared his throat. "Ma'am, everything checks out. I've alerted Admiral Bando'A of the Tenth Fleet to be on alert. Communications have also been sent to Admiral Bel Iblis and Bwautu, but no response has been received as of yet."

"And why do you suppose this is?"

O'Hare tilted his head and pursed his lips. "Any number of reasons. Faulty equipment, an ion storm in the area. I fully expect to hear from them both before the day is up, Ma'am."

The Chancellor seemed somewhat appeased. "Very good, Admiral." She turned her icy stare to Matthew. "And what of our Intel?"

As expected as the question was, Matthew had to suppress his irritation at the implications of the question. The Jedi were not to blame for this. As powerful as Caleb and Maya were, in addition to Jeremy, Ayrin, Fal and Taria, even they could not face an entire fleet with the ships they'd be equipped with. "Madam Chancellor, the Intel appears to still be at Antares."

"If it has not been moved to another location already," General Richards cut in.

Matthew inclined his head, conceding the point. "Perhaps it has. Perhaps it has not. However, rest assured the Jedi I sent are still alive. And if the Masters Temple are still alive then rest assured they will try again."

"And what makes you so sure?" Wolf sneered.

Matthew turned a withering glare in the clone's direction before simply replying, "The Force."

"Enough bickering," the Chancellor said in a tired voice. "Master Jedi, what do you intend to do to secure our Intel now?"

He turned his head to meet her eyes. A small smile curved his lips. The Generals and Captains and Commanders assembled all stared at him, making him feel as though he was a schoolboy late to class. He ignored those feelings and shoved them to the back of his mind. "I will see to it myself."

"One man against a fleet," a clone named Cody pointed out. His armor bore the mark of a Commander. The orange color designated him the senior officer of the famed 212th legion. He sat near the far end of the table, on the right side with his fellow clones. "Sounds like a suicide mission to me." From his vantage point in the middle of the left side, Matthew could feel the soldier's eyes boring into his head.

"Are you volunteering, Commander?" Matthew replied with a smirk.

Cody seemed taken aback. He fidgeted with his hands briefly before replying. "Yes, sir, I am."

Pleased, Matthew turned his gaze back to the Chancellor. "Well it looks like I'm taking the 212th along for the ride."

"The entire unit?"

"The entire unit."

O'Hare spoke up next. "I have a squadron of ships available. Three Star Destroyers with an escort of light and heavy cruisers. Plus one Acclamator."

Cody nodded approval. "That will be most welcome, Admiral. Thank you."

Matthew smiled grimly. "Chancellor, I request permission to lead the 212th in military operations in the Antares System."

The Chancellor leaned forward in her seat. "Are you certain, Master Jedi, that you can achieve results when no one else has been able to?" Her eyes bore into his once more and to him, no other pair of eyes in the briefing room mattered. Not Wolf's. Not O'Hare's. Not Richards. Not any of the captains or clones.

Matthew nodded at once. "You have my word."

"You promised me your Jedi could achieve this."

The words stung. He bit back a snarl and managed to keep his facial features composed. His good humor vanished abruptly. It was very un-Jedi-like of him, but he wanted to yell at the Chancellor. And Wolf. To make them understand that the Jedi were not responsible for this situation.

"Madam Chancellor. Admirals. Captains. Commanders. Generals." His gaze swept the room. He chose his words with deliberate care. "It is very likely that the danger we face is something more than anything we have ever known before. Greater even than the Mandalorians. Until we understand the scope of what we face, there will be setbacks. Obstacles. But in the end, we will prevail. We always do."

Hushed whispers ran around the room at his words. Side conversations broke out. O'Hare leaned in his seat to confer with the Chancellor. Their conversation was brief but heated. Only Matthew and Wolf sat, perfectly still, in the growing discussions.

Through it all, the chime of one comlink caught his attention. It was his. Matthew couldn't risk checking the message without attracting attention but he knew. He knew that he knew that he knew that it was from Sylvia. And from the waves of Force energy rolling through Earth he knew that something good had happened.

"To prove my point. " He spoke in a voice that carried through the briefing room and silenced even the Chancellor. "Every Youngling. Every Padawan that had fallen into a coma is now alive and well. Not to mention, conscious." He grinned broadly. "We found a way then. We will find a way now."

Some cheered. Others clapped. Matthew knew it was not his promise to find a way that had moved them. It was the knowledge that over two hundred children were now able to resume their activities. Their learning. To laugh and to play. To be children. Cody stood and approached him, extending an armored hand. He stood and shook the soldier's hand with a warm smile.

"Master Jedi." The Chancellor's voice was curt but Matthew could sense the enthusiasm she kept locked beneath the surface. "A word outside please." Matthew nodded.

The Chancellor stood and surveyed the room. "Admiral O'Hare, I want the whole of the Republic Navy placed on alert. Fortify our worlds and bases in the North. Send more ships if you have to." Her gaze turned to Richards. "General, I want you and Commander Wolf to direct battalions to the border until we know the threat has passed."

Both men nodded acquiesce and turned to confer with their men as the Chancellor swept past them. Matthew followed suit. As the door hissed shut behind them, the Chancellor turned upon Matthew. "I need to know exactly what you're thinking."

"Thinking about what?" Matthew replied cautiously.

"A threat greater than anything we've ever known. What do you think we face, Matthew?"

He studied her piercing brown eyes. How much should he say? How much should she know? "I believe," he began cautiously, "The threat we face to be something we faced eons ago." He saw the curiosity and worry in her eyes. "Something that only history can tell us anything about."

"What is it?"

"Sith." The word felt wrong on his tongue. Poisonous. As if saying it aloud would bring about great doom.

Her face paled instantly. Her hands trembled and she bit her lip hard. "What..."

He nodded slowly. "It adds up. The changes in the Force that put our Younglings in a coma. The fleet at Antares and the outposts. What Coven told me."

"Coven?"

"An ancient Jedi. The Grand Master during the fall of the Terran Empire." Matthew's voice was quiet. He fidgeted and avoided her eye now. His knees trembled. "During the wars we fought against...the Sith." Breathing was a struggle, as though air itself was not flowing through his lungs properly.

"How did he tell you anything?"

"We have our ways. Every Grand Master makes a Holocron. A record of their knowledge and experience to aid future Grand Masters. I consulted his." No point keeping it a secret. He'd said Coven's name. Of course Natalie would be curious about it.

She sighed. "Has it really come down to this?"

"It seems so, yes."

She looked at him. She had composed herself now. Some color had returned to her face and she seemed to no longer be on the verge of breaking down. "Then go. The safety of the Republic is depending on you. I'm counting on you Matthew. Don't let me down."

He bowed deeply at the waist. "I won't fail."

Natalie smiled softly. "Despite what you may think, I do have great faith in the Jedi. I always have."

He didn't fully believe her. But he would take the compliment for now. "Thank you, Madam Chancellor." He kept his facial features neutral so as to not betray his emotions.

"I'm sure you have a great deal to do. Be sure to send Jack and Erica my regards." Natalie winked mischievously as she swept back into the briefing room.

The landscape of Antares had once been beautiful, full of vast, sprawling forests and oceans, massive mountain ranges that jutted up into the clouds. Very much like Earth. But with no deserts. No masses of sand. Just gorgeous forests, sparkling water and rugged rock. It had been picked to be one of the Republic's first colonies in the Unknown Regions for exactly those reasons. Now however, it was clear why the colony here had stopped transmitting. All that remained was the blackened husks of trees, scorched soil, and broken rocks.

Most likely scenario was that the Sith had initiated an orbital bombardment and devastated the world. As Ayrin piloted the ship to the remnants of a shattered mountain, Caleb had glimpsed what appeared to be the remains of a starbase strewn across a flat plain that had probably once been a field of tall grass.

Jeremy and Fal sat perched on a rocky outcropping high above the _Mosquito_. Caleb paid them no mind, knowing that if something came up he would know immediately. Instead, he focused his energies on the port side wing and the engine. Upon reflection, he realized it was a small miracle that Ayrin had been able to land this ship. He sighed and walked to the hatch. "Hey! How does it look from in there?"

Ayrin's voice called back, sounding muffled.

"What?"

A sigh from closer to the hatch and Maya answered. "She says the power conduits have overloaded and there's a hull breach."

"Yep. I see the breach from here. Looks like an easy enough fix if we have the spare parts. But it will take time."

"Time we may not have," Maya commented dryly.

Caleb crouched in front of the engine. The scorched and pitted hull seemed to stare back at him, taunting him. A hit to the thruster on the wing was nothing. But this was harder. He was a skilled mechanic, but his skills paled in comparison to Jeremy. He looked up. "Hey! Jeremy!"

The younger Jedi looked around, saw his brother and jumped off the rock. At a height of twenty meters, the rock was to high for a normal human to jump and survive without injury. But Jeremy had the Force and landed as lightly as a feather. "What is it, Caleb?"

Caleb pointed wordlessly at the engine and wing. "Get to work. I want us off this world soon as possible."

With a nod, Jeremy went to the hatch and swung into the ship. Moments later, Caleb could hear the sizzling of a blowtorch. He turned away and began pacing. Lost in thought, he drifted in the general direction of the rocky slope. Not wanting to dirty his robes, Caleb leapt up to where Fal sat perched on the balls of his feet. "Master Kooru. How goes it?"

Fal continued scanning the landscape. "It goes...I am not sure 'it goes well' fits."

Caleb couldn't help but agree. "True." He sat next to the Mirialan Jedi and sighed. "What have we gotten ourselves into?"

"Something none of us expected."

Blunt, yet true as always. The setting sun cast pink and orange streaks of light across the sky, barely managing to illuminate the ruined world. Caleb glanced back at the ship, noting the shadows cast by his and Fal's figures, then turned his head back.

Fal nudged his shoulder and pointed in another direction. As the Jedi Master followed his comrade's finger, his blood chilled. His eyes widened in shock. There, peeking through the clouds was a massive ship. It resembled a Venator-class Star Destroyer used by the Republic, but was of slightly different variation. Smaller craft were deployed around it in escort formation and from the gaping maw that was the ventral hangar, ships emerged. With his Force-enhanced sight, Caleb could see starfighters of a similar model to the ones the fleet had engaged earlier flanking disc-shaped craft with cockpits mounted on the front. Some form of landing craft, he guessed.

The enemy had come for them. And without reinforcements, Caleb wasn't entirely sure they had what it took to fend them off this time.


	7. Chapter 6: Hang on Caleb, Hang on Maya

Chapter 6

Hang on Caleb. Hang on Maya

From his vantage point high above the ground, Raymond surveyed the activity below him. Row after row of clone troopers, their armor painted with orange stripes, each of them carrying a DC-15 blaster rifle, marched into the Acclamator-class carrier. Raymond himself was perched like a vulture atop the command center of the Black Water Creek Base, the primary military housing for all military personnel at Earth. A fortress built on the bank of a river, the base comprised a network of bunkers surrounding an expanse of landing pads, supply buildings and command buildings, each of which contained a secret hatch to the underground command center created during the Mandalorian War after the Mandalorian attack on Earth that had inflicted much damage upon the base. To the West of these military structures sat massive landing pads, one on top of another, stretching seventy-five kilometers into the sky and twelve kilometers in width. Each of these structures housed or multiple ships, ranging from vast Venator-class Star Destroyers held in place with massive magnetic clamps affixed to docking ports, to Enterprise-class Destroyers anchored on simple tethers built of durasteel that were capable of holding their weight. Other ships were there to. Light and heavy cruisers of varying classes. Droids and personnel roamed around the ships, loading and checking off items on datapads. Officers supervised, barking out commands and lecturing when mistakes were made or a soldier was deemed to be moving to slowly for their liking.

Currently, the only ships being worked on were those of the 33rd Elite. A strike force that, from what he had read, had performed admirably during the last war, serving at notable battles such as the Battle of Sol and the Battle of Vulcan. Both battles had been victories for the Republic, with thanks in no small part due to the heroism and skill of the fleet's commander, Admiral David Smith. The fleet consisted of three Venator-class Star Destroyers, three Rocketfire-class Heavy Cruisers, half a dozen Integrity-class Heavy Cruisers, a dozen Protector, Yorktown-class Light Cruisers and Enterprise-class Destroyers, accompanied by one Acclamator carrying a legion of clone troops.

Due to the urgency of the mission, every single one of those vessels was being readied for the voyage to Antares. All activity on other ships with the exception of the most urgent maintenance and repairs had been halted.

He didn't like this at all. Clones marshaling to wage war against an unknown foe. It was not that Matthew and Sylvia were going, leaving him in command of the Jedi Order during their absence that bothered him. Nor was it the endless politics and speeches he would have to endure. It was the reemergence of the Sith. He had been the first person to hear what Matthew and Sylvia had learned from the Grand Master's Holocrons. A testament to the strength of their renewed friendship in light of Raymond's return to the Order and rise to mastery.

But that mastery, his Jedi training, nothing, would serve to move the gut-wrenching anxiety that gripped him as he watched the endless rows of clone soldiers board the ship.

He had survived the last war. Barely. As a prisoner of Mandalore, he had been declared dead publicly by the leaders of the system. After his escape, he had been forced to take refuge in the mountainous regions of the planet. With no knowledge of what had become of his family or how the war was going, no way to contact them or escape the world, Raymond had nearly gone insane. He had been a shell of his former self. Ragged. Unkempt. Stammering out incomprehensible words, rambling on and on.

At the end of the war, Matthew and Olivia had journeyed to Mandalore and rescued him. His rehabilitation had fortunately been swift. It had taken several healers and deep meditation to remove the insanity.

But some wounds had remained. He rarely smiled. Rarely laughed. Unless he was around his family. He was his old self then. Whenever he was not busy with his Jedi duties, which he frequently cursed Matthew for 'gifting' him with, he spent that time with family. Raymond was determined to make up for the decade that his children had been fatherless. That was a wound that pained him greatly and the guilt was something that sometimes rose up inside him like a dragon and threatened to pull him down, choke him out.

Would his children be left fatherless again by this war? If the Sith had returned, there was no doubt in Raymond's mind that a war would soon be upon them. A brutal, bloody contest even worse than the carnage inflicted during the Mandalorian War. Worse still, would he be left childless? Angel and Alex were both grown. Capable warriors who would no doubt be expected to serve on the front lines. Jason and Jaina were Younglings, soon to be Padawans, only able to serve on the front with their accompanying Masters once the rank was attained.

A presence behind him made him look up. The familiarity of the presence almost made him smile. "Hello, Matthew."

The black-clad Jedi Master sat next to him. "Hi, Ray." Both Jedi exchanged glances. "What brings you here?"

Raymond shrugged and looked away. "Nothing much."

His friend studied him but did not pursue the subject. "Is it bad that I look forward to this mission?"

Another shrug. "Maybe."

"I mean...with this battle, we will have our missing friends and Intel back in one fell swoop."

"Then no. Look forward to it all you want."

"I think you're right." Matthew turned his gaze downwards to the clones. From the distance, he could see Cody holding a pad, consulting with several platoon leaders.

Raymond followed his friend's gaze. "You picked a good soldier. I read Cody's history. A good leader and tactician. He's popular with the men and knows how to fight."

"Good to know."

Raymond turned, his long braids swinging into and out of his face. He brushed them back with an irritated gesture. "Why exactly are you going?"

"If this is about you being in charge of the Order for a few days, then again, I'm terribly sorry."

"That's not it." He scowled. "You could've come to the Council. We could have discussed it and decided the best man for the job."

He saw the comprehension dawn in Matthew's eyes and the way he sheepishly ducked his head. "Sorry. Had to give the Chancellor some manner of reassurance that the situation was under control."

So that was it. It did something to appease Raymond's irritation at his friend's circumvention of the normal system. He could see Matthew's desperation to keep the Jedi in the field and avoid any possible openings for the Chancellor to think that maybe, just maybe, Wolf and certain others were right about the Jedi. That they didn't need super powered beings constantly coming in and mucking things up.

Not enough to completely justify his lack of thought. But it didn't matter. Raymond shrugged. "Next time, please just let someone know before you do something idiotic." He gestured irritably, struggling to get the words out.

Matthew grinned at him. "No promises."

He sighed. "Why do I even try?"

They laughed briefly. It felt good to laugh. He laughed so little these days that it was almost an unfamiliar sensation. How Matthew could still maintain such good moods even after the war baffled him. Hadn't he been through hell? Lost friends? Seen the most horrible of injuries laid bare as armor was removed from troopers in medical bays on numerous battlefields? The answer of course was yes.

And Raymond had been trapped on the sidelines. He would make up for that in this war. His jaw clenched at the thought of failing his friends again. Seemingly from far away, Matthew's voice cut through his thoughts. "Raymond." A hand descended upon his shoulder, warm and gentle. "You did your best. There was nothing anyone could have done."

The words cut deep. Memories flashed in his mind. Of Mandalore. Of Arganar. Of Kamino, where he had been captured. Flashing lightsabers hacking left, right and center. Blasterfire everywhere. Mandalorians firing from a distance, hidden behind walls and other support structures to avoid the shots the Jedi ricocheted back at them. The sound of jetpacks. A streak of pink to the left that was the trail of a missile heading towards them with alarming speed. Several of them.

Jedi and clones alike scattered, but one trooper was just a shade to slow, struggling to limp to safety due to a blaster wound in his leg. Raymond lunged to cover him and the shockwave of the impact caught him. He slammed into a crate and slid down it in a heap. Debris and fire rained around him and he struggled to shield his head. A jagged chunk of metal hit his arm and pain shot through the limb, along with the pulsing sensation of blood.

Raymond coughed and jerked himself back to the present. He couldn't look at Matthew. He didn't want to see the compassion and pity that was sure to be in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ray." The words were unexpected and so quiet that even with his Force-enhanced hearing, Raymond had to struggle to pick them up. "I should have done more to get you out of there."

The shock of hearing those words made Raymond's head turn. Made his eyes meet Matthew's. There was guilt there. Raymond's heart sank. Compassion and pity he knew how to deal with. But guilt? What was he supposed to say? That everything was alright? Was it? Or should he be angry that Matthew had retreated. From the reports he'd read of that day, the Mandalorian presence in that section of Tipoca City was to great for the thinly stretched Republic forces defending the world. It was only be regrouping in the center of the city that they had been able to fend off the Mandalorian advance.

So the anger was unnecessary. What had been done was done. There was no sense in letting in consume him any more than it already had. So instead of snapping at Matthew, instead of berating him, he simply said, "It's alright. I forgave you a long time ago."

Matthew's shoulders slumped as he leaned forwards, looking almost like a hunchback from Ray's position. "That was the first time I'd ever been forced to leave a man behind. And it was the last."

Raymond grimaced. He never made things easy did he?

"When our forces landed on Mandalore, I promised Olivia we would find you. Every city we took, every prisoner we interrogated, the first words out of my mouth were, 'where's Raymond? Where is the Jedi you captured on Kamino?' No one knew." He sighed. "No one knew what had become of you. Even in the capital. I tried every trick in the book to get them to talk."

"It doesn't matter."

"Why?"

Raymond looked him squarely in the eye. "Because," he began in a slow, halting voice. "You took care of my kids while I was away." His voice rose in strength and volume and Matthew cracked a smile.

"Least I could do."

Raymond put a hand on his fellow Master's shoulder. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. And thank you to."

"For what?" Raymond raised an eyebrow.

"Being my brother."

Before Raymond could say anything, someone's comlink went off. He sighed and reached a hand into his robes, only to find Matthew doing the same and answering it. Oh. It was his comlink. He withdrew his hand and looked at the comlink as the voice of a clone trooper spoke out of it. "Master White, do you copy?"

"I copy, Cody."

"The entire legion is ready to go, sir. All artillery is loaded, tanks secured and the troops are secured in the carrier's barracks."

"When can we expect the fleet to be ready for launch?"

A pause. Then some muffled voices. Raymond guessed Cody was discussing something with various officers. Whether they were clone or regular Navy personnel, he could not tell. Finally, Cody's voice came through the comlink loud and clear. "Estimates show fleet will be ready at dawn tomorrow."

Matthew sighed and stood up. Below him, Cody and several of the senior officers of the 212th legion stood by the Acclamator's massive landing ramp, accompanied by Naval commanders of the ships currently resting in their docking berths. Each ship was being loaded with fuel, supplies, munitions and parts in preparation for the coming mission. In a flash of movement, the Jedi Master was falling. His cloak billowed in the air around him, flapping in the wind as it spread like a pair of wings. Raymond leapt after him. From their perch atop the base's primary command structure, they fell. His cloak did the same, giving them both the appearance of two majestic birds descending to ground level. He saw Cody look up and point, felt his surprise in the Force. The others near him followed his pointing finger. With Force-enhanced sight, he could see their eyes narrow, squinting in an attempt to recognize what they were looking at before widening in recognition.

As the ground loomed ever closer beneath them, the Force flowed around them, slowing their descent and setting them lightly on their feet in front of Cody and the others. At least a dozen clones and several men and women of varying species in crisp uniforms with the insignias of Captains or Commanders pinned to their chests.

Matthew straightened to his full height and regarded the Commander of the 212th. "Good work, Commander." He extended a hand for the clone to shake. The inflexible plating of the armor was cool. Most likely due to the ac unit built into the back plate of the armor that circulated cool air through joints and the few cracks in the armor, preventing the trooper from overheating.

"Thank you, sir," Cody replied. His tone was flat and emotionless. The helmet that obscured his face made it impossible to tell what his facial expressions were. Not that Raymond cared. He had no desire to consider the opinions of non-Jedi. Too much was on his mind and too much was at stake.

Matthew turned his attention to the assembled Naval officers standing behind Cody. "Gentlemen, thank you for lending your ships and crews for this dangerous assignment. I expect us to leave at the crack of dawn tomorrow. My advice would be to have your men rested and prepared for battle."

The youngest Captain present, a Duros named Clak'Tal, raised a hand. When Matthew acknowledged him with a subtle nod of the head he cleared his throat. "Master Jedi, do you have any thought as to our plans once we reach Antares?"

Matthew shook his head. "Be mindful of the present, Captain Clak'Tal. Worrying about the future will render you ineffective in the present. You must focus on the here and now." A common phrase to hear in the Praxeum, even amongst accomplished Masters. It was a key part of Jedi philosophy. And as far as Matthew was concerned, it was clearly applicable to non-Jedi.

A sigh had to be suppressed from Raymond at the Captain's befuddled expression. From what he knew, the man had recently been promoted to the light cruiser _RSS Essex_. A Protector-class light cruiser fresh off the assembly line, it had barely managed to complete its shakedown cruise before being called into active service with the 33rd Elite being sent to Antares under the command of Matthew, Cody and Admiral David Smith, commander of the task force. Smith was absent from this little gathering, Raymond noted. But no matter. Any one of the men and women gathered could inform him of new developments.

"Now," Matthew said with a tone of finality. "I'm sure you have a great deal to do. I'll leave you to your work." He turned on his heel and marched away. Raymond hesitated only a second before following. A glance over his shoulder revealed the troopers and naval personnel scattering as well. Cody boarded the carrier _RSS Blazing Inferno_. Clak'Tal headed to the nearest turbolift, presumably hoping to board his ship.

His footsteps directed themselves of their own accord to a small bay at the foot of another building. The speeder housing. A few meters ahead of him, Matthew swung his body into a red speeder. Raymond briefly wondered why he was using his wife's speeder and where Sylvia was before following suite on the opposite side. Matthew flashed him a grin and gunned the engine.

Seconds later, they were in the Earth traffic lanes on course to the Praxeum. In his head, Raymond ticked off the time remaining until the fleet launched. Then factored in the time it would take for a fleet that size to reach Antares. It was all he and Matthew could do to hope that he would arrive in time.

Even though he knew full well that Caleb and Maya could not hear him, Raymond told them to hang on. _Hang on. Hang on just a little while longer. We're coming for you. Just hold out until then, please._ He wasn't sure how he would feel if he lost Caleb. What he would do. But Raymond knew one thing. Caleb was as much a brother to him as Matthew. And the loss would be devastating. This new generation of Jedi seemed keen on forming attachments, then training to not let those attachments blind them. And while Raymond could not help but wonder how many Jedi would fall to the Dark Side with this kind of philosophy, it wasn't as though he was able to emotionally cut himself off from those he loved. It wasn't as though he could simply stand on the side while they were cut down.

 _Hang on Caleb. Hang on Maya._

Caleb examined his fellow Jedi's efforts to conceal their presence with some meager attempt to be optimistic. He was tired from yet another sleepless night. He and Maya had teamed up to cast a simultaneous Protection Spell and a Force cloak over the area. Jeremy, Fal and Ayrin had worked to levitate boulders into strategic positions designed to limit the advance of infantry and conceal in the event of the cloak failing.

Meanwhile, Taria, Eelya and Shia worked frantically to fix the damage done to the vessel. Taria being the best engineer in the team managed to rig a temporary solution to reroute power away from circuits and wiring that had been damaged by the breach while Eelya repaired the breach itself. The hole that had been burned into the hull was hastily repaired using scavenged scraps of metal from the spare parts locker. It had required several hours of shaping the metal using both the Force and lightsabers in order to weld plates thick enough to withstand the vacuum of space and the right shape to cover the gap. The last task in regards to repairs had fallen to Shia, who had run system diagnostic after system diagnostic, tracking down each little computer error and misaligned computer chip until every system from life support to tachyon drive was back online and operating at as close to maximum capacity as possible.

All the while, gunships flew overhead. Six times, the Jedi had to duck into alcoves in the jagged mountain remnants to avoid detection by the droids seated in the cockpits. Quickly applied Force techniques slowed down body functions to the point that sensors would not register them as lifeforms even if the sophisticated systems wired into the gunship's targeting computers could detect them. And thus was how the Jedi had avoided detection.

But it was tricky. The Protection Spell had been specifically cast to prevent anyone who wasn't a member of the Jedi strike team from entering its boundaries. It was low cast, just high enough to conceal the ship but an unfortunate side effect meant that rocks that fell from higher up the mountain bounced off the energy field the spell created or in some cases remained in place, seeming to float in the air in suspended animation over nothing.

The sun was beginning to rise judging by the streaks of gold and pink illuminating the sky, revealing the full extent of the devastated world to his eyes. Caleb knew that when the sun rose higher he would be able to enter the shuttle and sleep while Jeremy took next watch. Or, more likely, that he would be summoned to help with repairs again. Or some other problem would rear its ugly head and demand his or Maya's attention.

 _Hang on Caleb. Hang on Caleb. Hang on Caleb._

Caleb's brow furrowed in confusion. The words seemed to resonate from within him. And there was just a trace of Raymond's voice attached to the words.

 _We're coming for you. Just hold out until then, please._

The words felt desperate, as though Raymond was pleading with him. It was weird, if the Jedi Master was honest, to think of Raymond dropping the shields around his heart and allowing others access to his raw emotions. It was something he rarely did, even at his weakest moments.

But the message was clear. Help was on the way. This news brought a small smile to his lips. It would be welcome to see a sight other than a disorganized shuttlecraft and the ruined world of Antares. He wished to see Earth. The beautiful ball of life that he called home. But he was a Jedi. Thus was his life. And until he could leave this world with the Intel, Caleb Temple would remain patient, his resolve unbroken, his team alive. A Jedi was to accept any situation they found themselves in. Acceptance enabled one to find the solution. And Caleb had a feeling he knew the solution.

"Did you feel it?" Maya asked.

So deep had he been in in thought that he had not heard her approach. Caleb briefly berated himself for allowing himself to become distracted before turning and embracing her. "Yes. Everything will be ok." The relief was visible in his voice, even to his own ears.

Maya smiled. "Just came to tell you that we think we have one of the engines rewired."

"That's what Taria said last time." Caleb raised a skeptical brow.

"I know, I know," Maya said. She rolled her eyes dramatically. "The engines were hit bad. They're rather delicate at the moment." Her voice dripped with irritation. She paused for a moment. "I just hope they hold out for us to be able to make our escape."

Caleb nodded solemnly. "The sensors show a fleet still in orbit. Though it seems much smaller than before."

"That means that these enemies have moved on. Gone other places."

Another nod. Maya's eyes widened in apprehension and she looked down until she composed herself. It took only seconds. Caleb tentatively wrapped his arms around her a little tighter to reassure her. "Most likely deeper into the Republic."

"The most logical guess given recent events, yes."

"Ever so reassuring." She rolled her eyes at him. "Have we had any contact with our own fleet?"

Caleb shook his head. Maya sighed heavily as Caleb said softly, "No. That either means they were all wiped out, or they are trapped on the moon."

They both fell silent, processing and trying to find a way out of the situation. Enemy ships filled the skies, searching for them. Even if they managed to get out of the atmosphere, they could not afford the time to search the moon that _Integrity_ had crashed into. And assuming they managed to survey the moon without being obliterated by dozens of starfighters, they would likely be unable to rescue any of the surviving crew.

A Jedi's duty was to protect and preserve life. It was incredibly vexing that in this instance, it would be nearly impossible to protect the lives that had made this dangerous voyage with them.

But they also had the Intel to protect. And as much as Caleb hated to admit it, that had to take priority in this instance. Judging by the look on Maya's face, it pained her to agree.

Commander Thompson sighed heavily and looked up at the steadily darkening skies. It had been another long day. Another ambush fended off. More wounded. Few medical supplies. Their situation was fast approaching desperate. The rugged moon offered many enclosed spaces for a base, but none with any comfortable areas, forcing them to take cover in the wreckage of a mountain. This enemy had indeed been thorough in razing the system in their initial takeover.

Whoever they were, the Commander no longer cared to know. All that concerned him was getting the remnants of the two crews off this rock. A task that seemed impossible.

As the sun set, vanishing beneath the horizon, its gold and pink streaks retreating across the sky to fade into the blackness of night, Thompson returned to the camp. Campfires were scattered amongst the rubble, each with men huddled around them. The moon got rather cold at night.

The mood was tense, not helped at all by the cries of the wounded that lay clustered around a group of fires in the center of the camp. Sentries were posted around the camp, each with a rifle. They had no night vision goggles or sensor equipment. What little they had been able to salvage had long since been destroyed in what seemed like a never-ending series of ambushes.

Bone-colored droids marched in wave after wave, blasters firing relentlessly. No matter how many were shot down or 'killed' in a sense, more always followed. Sometimes they were backed up by purple-armored, larger droids with heavy wrist-mounted blasters. Thompson couldn't be sure whether their defenses were holding, or if the commander of this droid army simply wished to toy with them in as sadistic a manner as possible.

But it didn't matter, really. Nothing except survival mattered.

"Commander, we've got word from the scouts," Lieutenant Sorva greeted him with a tired salute. He clutched at a bloodstained bandage wrapped around his upper arm as Thompson nodded at him to continue. "Droid forces reported on the east, moving in this direction."

The former first officer, now acting-captain, had heard the report so often over the last few days that it no longer surprised him. But it still elicited a sigh and a tired palm across his forehead. "Gather the men. Assign four squads to protect our flanks, the rest to the center."

Sorva nodded and raised a hand to get the attention of Lieutenant Commander Bazal Nola, the second officer of the _Valiant_ and the only surviving senior officer of that ship. The short man walked over, looking rather unwell. He had not been injured by a blaster, but was, like all of them, suffering from lack of food and sleep. "Yes, Lieutenant?" he barked weakly. Sorva gestured to Thompson.

"We need your men on the flanks, Commander. We've got droids."

"How many?" Nola tilted his head inquisitively.

Heads turned to Sorva, who swallowed nervously. "At least five platoons. Possibly more in reserve."

Thompson gestured to the lieutenant, who correctly translated the signal to mean, "show me". He led the senior officers to the perimeter of the camp. There, in the distance, their bone-colored armor barely visible in the darkness of night, marched row after row of the battle droids. Nola grabbed a pair of binoculars and scanned the ranks hastily. Thompson studied him for his reactions. His own binoculars had been destroyed in a skirmish and he knew that Nola had a much better view of the oncoming forces than he did.

The second officer's face was grim and tired. "They've deployed to form a pincer movement. Two platoons coming from the east, two more breaking off to attack from the northeast. Last one is holding in reserve." He passed the binoculars to Thompson, who examined the droids for himself. He sighed a heavy, weary sigh from the depths of his exhaustion and pain. The second officer was right.

"To stations!" Thompson whirled and began barking orders. His hoarse voice strained to be heard throughout the camp over the moans of the wounded, oblivious to the danger. Over the crackle of campfires. But with a great effort, he managed it as he strode amongst fires, pulling men to their feet. "Get weapons. We're under attack. MOVE!"

Crewmen and officers of all species leapt to their feet. Blaster rifles were shouldered. Pistols loaded. Fingers scrabbled in pockets to find spare power cells.

Men and women in varying degrees of tattered uniforms, with dirt and blood smears on their faces and arms, thundered in the direction Thompson was pointing. To Nola, who directed them into defensive positions. Some were instructed to lay over the rocks to minimize the target profiles they presented. Others were hidden amongst the rocky terrain in crouches or behind larger boulders.

The wreckage of the mountain offered many such boulders to hide behind.

"Here they come!" Sorva shouted as the blasters clutched in the droid's metal grips opened up. Red streaks filled the space between the two factions. Explosions cracked rocks, sizzled over heads, causing men and women to duck in alarm. Several didn't duck fast enough and blaster bolts tore into their bodies, sending them flying to the ground to in charred heaps.

"OPEN FIRE!" Thompson screamed over the noise. And then he pulled his own trigger. The first blue bolt sizzled through the air, racing through the battle until it connected with the neck joint of a droid. It collapsed. Its comrades merely marched over it. Unfeeling. Remorseless.

More blasterfire streaked forth from the Republic encampment, intercepting droids left and right. The first line fell one by one. The second was right behind them, firing rapidly.

If Thompson had been at full mental capacity, he would have noticed the one flaw of the droid's attack. Unthinking, unfeeling, programmed objects have a limited capacity to react. The droids were programmed to overwhelm through sheer weight of numbers. But they couldn't anticipate their opponent's moves. It would be theoretically possible to devise a counter or some measure of trap against the droid forces. With a mountain to retreat into if need be, and dense coverage all around, playing a game of hide and seek would be challenging, but possible.

But, his foggy brain could only comprehend a few things. Destroying droids. The scream of dying men and women around him. And the hopelessness that threatened to swallow him up, to silence the sound of the blaster rifle in his hands. He knew there was no way out. He was so tired. His joints ached from constant activity. It was a physical battle with himself just to keep his eyes open while he fired away. The gallant officer had been awake for nearly seventy-two hours straight and was nearing the end of his strength.

Meters away, Nola fired away as well. He had positioned himself to cover two Ensigns, one Vulcan with a bandaged ribcage, the other a human fresh out of the academy. A soldier on his first mission. A mission that would likely end in his death.

At least that death was merciful. The blaster bolts that blasted chunks of rock from their hiding place soon found their mark. Thompson saw the shot burn a hole through the young man's chest and the shock on his face as he slumped over the rock.

No time to mourn. All around him, similar events were happening as the droids closed in. They were becoming more and more accurate. Each meter the lines gained on their encampment brought more and more death to the Republic soldiers. For each droid that fell, at least two valiant Republic officers or crewmen gave their lives in a desperate attempt to hold out against the onslaught. There had only around two hundred that had survived the initial crash. A number that had dropped to around seventy during the numerous skirmishes over the last few days.

Soon, only a handful remained. Thompson crouched behind his hiding place, which would soon be completely disintegrated by blasterfire. He took in a breath and accepted that he had few left. Soon a flash of red would end this living hell.

But he wouldn't go down without a fight. The officer sprang, a second slower than he normally would have. Tired limbs screamed in protest. He turned his blaster on the nearest droid and fired. The droid collapsed. As its fellow droids turned in his direction and took aim, a voice bellowed, "Cease fire!"

Instantly, every combat droid sprang back and lifted their weapons. All of them remained motionless, still in formation. Every now and then, gaps in the formations could be found. The result of a desperate defense, picking off droid after droid. But there were enough droids to make up the difference.

Thompson exchanged a worried glance with Nola, who shrugged helplessly as if to say, "I've no idea what's going on." The commander had to repress the absurd urge to snort as he returned his attention to the mass of droids that now stood less than ten meters away from him. Their emotionless eye sockets bore into him, silently daring him to open fire on them.

"You have fought valiantly. I can truly see why you are known as one of the Republic's finest, Commander Thompson."

The voice seemed to come from all around, echoing from the mountain, from behind the droids. Even from beside him. The officer half-turned and saw nobody. "What do you want?" No matter how the voice knew his name. There were many ways to discover the name of a prominent naval officer.

As one body, the wall of droids parted to reveal a tall figure. Thompson's heart sank and his knees trembled. As he gazed upon the figure, he knew his tremblings were not caused by fatigue, but fear. The air itself around the figure seemed darker. As if an invisible veil shimmered around him. A veil of night. Thompson had none of this mysterious 'Force' that the Jedi were known to possess. But even he knew that this was the Dark Side that they spoke of.

"Your unconditional surrender." The figure stepped closer, fully passing through the droids. The wall closed after him. The figure threw back his hood, revealing pale skin and yellow eyes. "To the Sith Empire."

Thompson's blood suddenly ran cold and he couldn't breathe. Sith. That one word echoed in his mind. Sith. Everyone knew that word. But nobody dared speak it. Or think it. Every single child learned in history lessons at schools across the Republic of the brutal war that had been fought in eons past as the servants of the Dark Side brought death and destruction to the Empire before finally being defeated.

As if sensing his thoughts, the Sith Lord smirked. "We cannot be defeated so easily, Commander." He stepped closer, not seeming to care how far away from his droids he got. And Thompson knew that if he was indeed a Sith Lord, he could likely wipe out the entirety of the remaining crews singlehandedly. "I would advise surrender, Commander."

A raised hand brought droid blasters in line with the chest of Thompson and every other soldier and officer still standing. Out of the corner of his eye Thompson saw some half-raise their blasters in what he knew was a futile effort to protect themselves. Others flinched back behind cover.

"Drop your weapons." The words seemed hollow. Heartless. He couldn't meet Nola's eyes knowing the scorn he would see there. Instead, he looked around to see his men staring at him in surprise. Some had dropped their weapons, others still clutched them desperately. "Drop your weapons!" he barked.

That got them moving. Hesitantly, fearfully, they dropped their weapons. Blaster pistols and rifles clattered to the ground, bouncing at the feet of those who dropped them.

"Take them." Thompson turned to find that in the few seconds he had taken his eyes off the Sith Lord, the dark entity had moved closer. Close enough to stand face to face with Thompson. He shrank back, avoiding the yellow eyes. "Wise choice, Commander."

A snap of fingers. Thompson's world faded to black. The last thing he was consciously aware of was his knees buckling beneath him and the ground rising to meet his face.

From the bridge of the Imperial-class Star Destroyer _Nightfall_ , Kornath paced the bridge relentlessly, casting glares left and right. The droids manning consoles in the pits situated to either side of the command walkway didn't so much as lift their heads to meet his stares. One might be impressed at their efficiency, but Kornath's blood was boiling. And the fact that these droids didn't fear him only increased his apprehension. Droids could not feel anything. There was nothing that could scare them. It was, he supposed, what made them such deadly soldiers despite being so expendable.

He directed his glare to the curve of the planet on the port side of the bridge. _Nightfall_ hung in a low orbit to allow for quicker access to the surface and concealment during the initial stages of the engagement. With Koridan's armada gearing up for an assault on the Corporate Sector, the center of economic growth for the Republic, a strike force was practically guaranteed to be launched to take back the Intel and rescue the Jedi trapped on the surface.

Which was why, to Kornath's resentment, Koridan had remained in the system. After the time limit given was up and the Jedi still remained at large, Koridan had taken over the search and with no assignment, Kornath simply waited in reserve for a chance to kill the Jedi. He briefly touched his nose, recalling the Master that had bested him aboard the freighter. The rage within his gut that fired his connection to the Force simmered, bleeding into his aura.

Though the shimmering darkness, he barely noticed one of the skinny, bone-colored B-1 mode battle droids approaching him. "Sir, you have an incoming transmission."

Kornath whirled and fixed the droid with his most devastating of glares. "From who?"

"Lord Koridan, sir."

With a sigh, Kornath stalked past the droid, elbowing it out of the way. He directed his footsteps to the holographic projector table situated at the back of the bridge. The large double doors hissed shut behind him and the few droids that worked the consoles barely acknowledged his presence. The tactical droid that served as the ship's commander keyed a command into the small control pad and a larger than life image of Tal Koridan flared to life. Kornath quickly dropped to one knee. "My Lord?"

"I have a task for you."

"What do you require?"

Kornath kept his gaze fixed firmly upon the floor, listening to the deadly calm voice above him. "I have captured the Republic crew stranded on the moon. As a chance to redeem yourself, I am granting them to you."

"And what would you have me do with them?" The assassin inwardly bristled. He didn't have to redeem himself. It was not his fault the Jedi remained at large. No one, not a single one of his droids could detect them. It was likely they had cast a powerful cloaking spell upon themselves.

So great was the attention required to keep those mutinous thoughts locked in his mind that he almost missed his master's next words. He forced himself to focus, knowing that the slightest failure to carry out these particular orders was sure to bring about much greater consequences. "Use them as bait. We will use the Jedi's compassion for life against them."

Now a wicked smile graced Kornath's lips. This was something he would relish in. The surest way he knew to lure the Jedi out of hiding would be to inflict pain upon their comrades. The greater the pain, the quicker a Jedi would emerge, flying to the rescue on a wave of Force-enhanced speed with lightsaber blazing. In true Jedi fashion. "Not only can I do that, but I will do it with great pleasure."

"Do not fail me, Assassin. The Council is demanding progress in this invasion. Progress that will come only when we have unlocked the Republic's secrets."

"Master, surely with the Leviathan, we will bring the Republic to its knees with or without its military secrets."

Koridan snorted. "A weapon without a target is only a danger to the one pulling the trigger."

Kornath could only concede the point. "I will not fail, Master."

"I will hold you to that." The hologram winked out of existence, its blue aura vanishing in a flash to leave the bridge as dark and ominous as it had been before.

The assassin rose. He stood motionless for a second, gloved hand fingering the hilt of his lightsaber. His rematch was near. And this time, there would be bodies of Jedi littering the landscape.

Matthew's eyes reluctantly opened. The bed felt so comfortable, the blankets so warm and the body of his wife next to him under those blankets felt so peaceful. It was all the Jedi Master could do to not sink more deeply into his pillow and drift back to sleep. But he didn't. He had things to do.

Summoning his strength, he shifted his weight to try and disentangle himself from Sylvia's still sleeping form. What he was about to do would undoubtedly have dire consequences. But he had to do it nonetheless. He gently ran a hand over her back. "Sylvia." She moaned faintly. "Sylvia." A little louder this time. He caressed the soft skin of her neck, rubbing his thumb in circles under her ear. "Love wake up."

"I hate you," she murmured. Her eyes were still closed and her hair had fallen into her face at some point during the night.

Matthew brushed that hair away, revealing what he considered to be among the most beautiful sights in the universe. Her still half-asleep face. Hair untidily framing her cheeks, her eyes closed. "I love you to."

With a sigh, she sat up. "What time is it?"

He looked at the alarm clock beside them. It showed four-twenty-eight am. He grimaced. They still had two minutes of sleep. Knowing Sylvia would give him hell if she knew, he quickly said, "Um it's four-thirty love." Then he reached through the Force to flip one switch on the alarm clock. The alarm turned off.

"Then why didn't the alarm go off?" Sylvia's tone held traces of irritation.

Oh no. Matthew's eyes widened. Suddenly, he felt far more awake and energetic than he should be. It was probably the knowledge that he had awakened a sleeping dragon that would shortly devour him. "Um, it must be malfunctioning."

"Sure." Her beautiful brown eyes opened and scanned the room briefly before falling on the alarm clock that Matthew tried and failed to block from view. Her eyes narrowed as they took in the time. Four-twenty-nine am. "Liar." Matthew blinked up at her innocently. She glared back. "You deprived me of an extra minute of my precious sleep."

He spread his hands in a "oops" gesture and chuckled. "Well I was awake." He burst out laughing as she thumped him on the chest.

"Bad Matthew!" He sat up quickly, grabbing her wrist as she lunged at him again. "You should know better by now. You. Let. Me. Sleep. Mister. Jedi." Each word was a playful blow to the arm or shoulder from her free hand and Matthew flinched away laughing harder. "Quit laughing." She dropped her arm to her side and pouted. "It's not funny."

It took a moment for Matthew to control his laughter and he grinned at her. "As apology, please accept my offer to make breakfast."

"You have to bring it to me in bed."

"Why?"

"Cuz I said so. That's why."

"Alright but you better be awake when I'm done."

"No promises." She smirked at him. He rolled his eyes and wrapped both arms around her waist. Half a second later their lips met. The kiss was soft and loving, just the way Sylvia loved it. Slowly, almost teasingly but not quite, Matthew's hands traveled up her back to rest on her neck as she wrapped her arms around him in return. Then his hands were on her cheeks and he leaned further into the kiss. It seemed like an eternity but could actually have been seconds. Or a minute. It was hard to tell. But eventually they broke apart.

"Now will you be awake?"

She grinned at him, her lips still a centimeter away from his. She glanced at his lips then lovingly back up at his eyes. Blue/grey met brown and both smiled. "Maybe."

Matthew snorted indignantly. "All that for a maybe."

"Yep." She giggled at his expression. Just for the sake of changing it, she poked his nose. He wrinkled his nose and started to pull his head back but she held onto him tightly. "Where are you going?"

"Breakfast." With a smirk, he kissed her again, but pulled away sooner and jumped off the bed before she could react. "Oh by the way."

"Yes?" She pouted at him. He could see her fighting the urge to reach for him.

"I love you."

"I love you to."

"Always will."

"Same."

He blew her a kiss and laughed as she blew one back. It never ceased to delight him just how wonderful and loving she was. Even at four-thirty when she was the equivalent of a sleeping dragon. A tired dragon that loved her sleep.

A glance at the other bedroom told him the kids were still asleep. Good. Right where they should be. The door was closed and the lights were out. Not only that, Matthew could feel their presences in the Force. Sleeping. Content. At peace. It made his heart leap having them at home. What was even better was seeing the effect it had upon Sylvia. She had been overjoyed.

He smiled at the memory of their reunion as he made some quick biscuits and bacon. For some reason, Sylvia disliked eggs and pancakes. It baffled him. Especially since he had a particular fondness for pancakes. But no matter. If it made her happy, he would cook as much bacon as possible.

There had been tears when Matthew had walked into their quarters to find his wife, son and daughter laughing and playing. He had run to them and swept all three of them into his arms before fervently apologizing to Sylvia for not being able to help wake them up. She had quickly assuaged his guilt and kissed him, only to have Jack and Erica pretend to gag beside them. Then they had all gone to get dinner.

Ever since, there had been a new spring to Sylvia's step. A joy to her eyes that had been lost over the last few days. Just knowing that his beloved wife was ok made him feel ten kilos lighter in his spirit. As though some invisible burden had been lifted from his heart.

With a touch of the Force, he flipped the knob on the oven to 'on' and set it to preheat itself. Then he began mixing the biscuit mix into a bowl. Of course, he only succeeded in making a mess and the biscuit mix refused to mix as it should, resulting in lumps of flower where there should not have been. "Come on." He scowled at the infuriating sludge he had conjured. "You cooperate with her. Why won't you work for me?"

"Because you're a terrible cook that's why, babe."

Matthew whirled, coming face to face with Sylvia, who had slipped into the room behind him and leaned on the counter with a sly smirk on her face. "So whatever happened to breakfast in bed?"

"I remembered what a terrible cook you are so I decided to come make sure my food was edible."

Matthew suppressed a snort with difficulty. "Let us not forget that wonderful pineapple upside-down cake I made on Embaria. With naught but a fire and some coal."

She sighed. "Only you would attempt to do something for our anniversary. The anniversary of when we started dating, not married, but freaking dating, while in the middle of a life or death mission on a planet in the Unknown Regions infested with DRAGONS!"

They laughed. Sylvia moved past him and began stirring the biscuit mix with deft precision and experience.

"Well," Matthew replied when he had recovered his composure. "I couldn't just let the fifth year anniversary of when I began dating the love of my life pass me by."

"I mean, I can't either, Hun." She grinned at him. "But I'd wait till after the mission was over."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"You were so weird back then."

"Implying I'm not weird now?" He pretended to look astonished,

Sylvia pretended to look thoughtful as she molded the mix into the shapes of biscuits and put the tray in the oven, soon followed by the bacon strips. "Oh no. Now you're even weirder. Which is weird, since you're supposed to get less weird as you age."

"I'm still young at heart."

This prompted an eye roll from Sylvia and a faintly exasperated sigh. "You're impossible is what you are."

He nodded. It was impossible to not concede that particular point. The irony of that particular thought brought a smirk to his face and he considered voicing that thought aloud.

All of a sudden, Sylvia's laughter faded. The light left her eyes and her smile faltered. "Matt?"

"Love? What is it?" He looked at her with concern. What had gone wrong? He placed a hand upon her shoulder.

"What about them?" She past his shoulder to the door to the kid's room. Her concern rang in the Force. "Will they be ok while we're gone?"

That hit Matthew with the force of a gong clanging against an ancient church bell. "They will have Raymond. Yaddoa. Hera. Kiyomasa. The best of the Jedi Order. The very best to safeguard and protect them." Even to his own ears, the words sounded half-hearted. As if he himself barely believed them.

She shook her head. "I don't know. I just feel...like they're safer with us for now." She bit her lip and looked away as if worried he would freak out.

But he didn't. He cocked his head to one side, studying her for a quick moment before pulling her into a hug. He knew she had been hurting while Jack and Erica had been in a coma. And that something like this would be natural in the aftermath of that. But he also knew better than to tell Sylvia she was being overprotective. Not when he himself had been wondering the same thing. He trusted Ray and Hera. Kiyomasa, Motodata, Masamune. The instructors at the Praxeum. All of them. Every Jedi he would trust with his life. But those he would trust with the lives of his kids could be counted on the fingers of one hand.

"Maybe..." he suggested. "Maybe if we brought them along?"

She shot him an astonished look. "Into a war zone?" Her shock radiated through the Force and she hastily clamped down on her mental barriers, forcing them shut. All she could do was hope that no Jedi had been blasted awake. She sighed heavily.

"We can protect them. We'll be on the _Pathfinder_. A Star Destroyer. And one of our finest." Matthew reached out to place a hand on her arm. "If you would feel safer keeping them with us, then we will bring them with us on this mission." He smiled reassuringly. "If Admiral Smith has a problem, well, I really don't care. I'm in charge of this mission."

"Doesn't it go against protocol?"

"I've never liked protocol."

Sylvia gave him a look. "Matt. This is the military. You can't just ignore the rules to get what you want."

"I want you to be at ease, my love. For that, I'm willing to do whatever it takes." His tone was gentle, but mired with determination. His eyes held a look of steely resolve that contradicted the soft smile on his face.

Her expression softened, then tightened again and she looked away. "I...guess."

"You guess?"

"Yeah." Her voice was barely audible. Matthew had to strain to hear her. "I guess we can take them along."

Matthew pulled her in for a soft kiss. "I love you," he whispered as he pulled away. "I promise it will be ok. I'll handle the Admiral, the Chancellor and anyone else who objects."

Sylvia shrugged.

"If you're really not comfortable with the idea we don't have to." His hand began lightly caressing her neck to soothe her. "It's ok to have them stay at the Praxeum with Ray and Olivia."

After a long moment, Sylvia shook her head. "No. I don't want to bring them...but I also need to be able to protect them in case..." She didn't finish. She couldn't finish. The thought of losing her children was unbearable. Fortunately, Matthew picked up on her unease.

"I'll wake them and get them packed, love."

Sylvia turned away and resumed working on breakfast.

An hour later found the Jedi family striding across the docking port that supported the _RSS Pathfinder_. The Venator-class Star Destroyer seemed impossibly huge from this close. Invincible. It almost reassured Sylvia that her beloved Jack and Erica would be safe aboard the ship. From what she could recall from the fleet reports, it was a Mark II of the Venators, equipped with stronger shield generators and more DBY-827 heavy dual turbolaser cannons than the Mark I's. The _Pathfinder_ was the only ship in the strike fleet to be designated a Mark II, fitting, as it was the fleet's flagship. To either side of the bridge's superstructure, flanked by ten of those turbolasers, a symbol was painted on the hull. A red dragon with the words "Pride. Heroism. Duty." written in an ancient dialect known as Latin forming a semi-circle around the dragon.

Magnetic clamps hummed all around them, keeping the massive vessel in place, not to mention from collapsing through the durasteel floor of the structure and slamming into the ships below her.

Trailing behind the two Jedi Masters, Jack and Erica yawned as they tiredly shuffled their feet after their parents. They carried backpacks with the bare necessities for travel. Toothbrushes. Toothpaste. Clothes. Holobooks, both for fun and for training. On their belts hung training lightsabers. Sylvia noted the training sabers would be next to useless if the _Pathfinder_ was boarded. A training lightsaber was essentially a standard lightsaber with a highly intensified electromagnetic containment field designed to better contain the energy that flowed through the blade of the lightsaber. Due to the stronger containment, a training saber did less damage. Minor burns and bruises was the worst one could expect to receive if one failed to parry a training lightsaber's blade. Jack and Erica's blades had been manually adjusted to just under two feet in length to compensate for their smaller statures.

With a wave of his hand, Matthew reached through the Force to open a door just ahead of them. It hissed open, revealing a long, narrow corridor that was the docking hatch. It was already extended to meet the _Pathfinder's_ own hatchway. The family went through it and the hatch at the far end hissed open as well.

A squad of clone troopers stood rigid, three to either side of the door with blaster rifles raised.

Matthew nodded respectfully at them as he swept past and made his way to the junior officer who stood at the head of the squad. "Permission to come aboard?"

"Permission granted," the officer replied.

A curt nod was exchanged between the two and Matthew swept past the officer as well.

"Master Jedi," the officer called after him. Matthew turned to find him eyeing Jack and Erica with apprehension.

"Is there a problem?" Sylvia shot Matthew a look that said, "I told you so". He ignored that and fixed the officer with his most commanding stare. The kind normally used for troublesome Younglings or enemy prisoners that refused to cooperate.

"This...is highly unusual..." The officer was clearly bemused. Matthew could sense his confusion easily. Children were rarely allowed aboard military vessels. Even deep space exploration missions, if and when they were launched, rarely held non-civilians of any age.

No matter. Right now, the Grand Master had more important things to attend to. "Let them pass."

For a second, the officer paused. Matthew and Sylvia could both see the wheels turning in his head. Jack and Erica stood tiredly by their mother's side wanting nothing more than to go back to bed. At last, the officer suppressed a sigh. "Yes, sir. Shall I inform Admiral Smith you've arrived?"

Matthew merely smiled and nodded. And with that, the Jedi walked off, leaving the officer and the clones behind. Without words, they parted at one of the adjoining corridors. Sylvia escorted the kids to a turbolift at the end of that corridor. One that specifically led to the quarters deck where the Jedi's guest quarters had already been assigned to them. Generally speaking, guest quarters were slightly larger and more spacious than normal soldier's or officer's quarters. Hence the reason for Matthew requesting one.

Meanwhile, the Grand Master continued ahead to another turbolift. It opened as he approached and he stepped in. The walls glowed with a soft white light, illuminating a small control panel next to the door. He keyed in a command and it started moving. The turbolift flew up through the ship's command superstructure, finally coming to a halt at the entrance to the port bridge. All Venators had two bridges. The starboard bridge was for starfighter control while the port bridge was for navigation.

"Admiral," he called a greeting and extended an arm to greet Admiral David Smith. The man was of similar height and build to Matthew, but with brown hair cut close to the skull and a piercing brown-eyed gaze.

"Master Jedi. Thank you for joining us." David grasped Matthew's hand and shook it firmly.

Matthew grinned. "No, thank you for agreeing to go on the mission."

"I had no reason to refuse."

"Fair point."

David released Matthew's hand and turned to gesture at a taller man with a cleanly shaven beard and darker skin. "The commander of the ship. Captain Jayln Hunter." He indicated the man standing over Jayln's shoulder as Matthew inclined his head. "First Officer, Commander Flynn Burchfield."

"Admiral, shall we initiate launch sequence?" Jayln asked?

At a nod from David, Jayln spun on his heels and began barking orders. "Warm up the engines. Standby reactor ignition. Ensign! Alert the comm tower that we are ready to depart. Transmit departure codes when requested."

Sylvia entered the bridge and stood next to Matthew, who hung back to watch the bridge crew at work. A roar beneath his feet signaled the moment when the _Pathfinder's_ reactor sparked to life. Matthew smiled at her and linked his arm through hers.

"Sir, comm tower requests launch codes."

"Transmit codes. Helm, begin plotting our ascent course."

"What is the status of the fleet?" David's voice cut through the clamor of voices with calm precision. He stood in the center of the bridge, flanked on either side by the crew pits, hands folded behind his back.

Flynn glanced over his shoulder, checking a readout before replying. " _Blazing Inferno_ reports ready. _Essex_ is requesting formation layout." He rolled his eyes. "Transmitting now." His tone held a hidden irritation. Matthew suspected that Flynn had already informed Clak'Tal of his place in the formation prior to this. " _Liberty_ and _Savior_ report ready and on standby." Another glance at the readout. Force enhanced vision helped Matthew to see the lines of code appearing on the screen. Each code was a ship transmitting its ready signals to the _Pathfinder_.

"Admiral. Captain. Comm tower has cleared us for departure."

Jayln nodded confirmation. "Engage primary reactors. Take us out."

A set of commands was keyed in by one of the junior officers. One by one, the magnetic clamps holding the ship up deactivated. The docking ports retracted. At the same moment, engines roared to life with the ferocity greater than that of a thousand lions. As if the ship itself wanted to take flight. To be free in the stars. The ship eased forwards, as quick as her helmsman dared to fly her. The rush of movement took the compensators a moment to react to, and several crewmembers stumbled.

But for David and the Jedi, the movement was confined to nothing but eyebrows lifting. The Jedi had the Force to steady them. David had years of experience to anchor himself in place as the bow of his ship tilted upwards towards the heavens. Clouds blurred only to revert to the white blobs of fluff they appeared to be as the ship's trajectory formed a straight path.

All around the _Pathfinder_ , ships broke free of their moorings from Star Destroyers down to the smallest of the fleet. One by one, ships peeled off from the base and dropped into a loose wedge formation. It was highly dangerous to fly so close together while launching and it was even more dangerous to maintain a close proximity to another ship while jumping into Hyperspace.

The clouds became stars. The blue of the sky became the cold blackness of space, dotted with tiny pinpricks of light that were stars. It was still one of the most beautiful sights Matthew had ever seen. The sheer vastness of it all was almost enough to take his breath away. Almost.

"Power up the tachyon drive."

"Aye, aye, Admiral!"

Matthew watched as the crew began prepping the ship for the jump to light speed. Unlike hyperdrives used centuries ago, which propelled the ship through another dimension beneath normal space, requiring precise calculations and jump points, a tachyon drive simply created a field of tachyon particles around a ship, moving it much faster than the speed of light. Due to the changes in light speed technology, ships were now able to fly through normal space from point A to point B with relative ease.

"Tachyon drive ready, Admiral!"

At a command from David, those stars blurred, becoming streaks of light across the transparisteel windows that separated the bridge crew from that blackness. The _Pathfinder_ leapt into light speed with a boom that shook the ship.

The Republic had set its sights on Antares. And they were coming in force.


	8. Chapter 7: Rescue at Antares

Chapter 7

Rescue at Antares

"My Lord, the Republic has deployed its forces. They are en route to Antares now." The dull, mechanical voice of the tactical droid cut through Koridan's thoughts. He shot it a glare, knowing full well the droid would be unphased. Even though it had entered his private meditation chambers without his consent. Oh. Wait. Koridan sighed and opened his eyes. He had told his crew to disturb him only in the event of an emergency. It was no hard guess that the simple programming of the droids had interpreted a Republic fleet as an emergency.

He rose from his meditation posture slowly and turned to face the hulking droid. "How long until they arrive?"

The droid tilted its head. Its eyes flashed through a cycle of pulses. "Four days at most, my lord."

With a twitch of his hand, Koridan reached through the Force to activate a holomap at his desk. Blue holograms flared into existence from the bulbous projector. A flick of a wrist caused holograms to shift and zoom in and out of focus, before refocusing into larger holograms. The largest was the massive star of Antares. Surrounding this were several, smaller images. Planets. Some had moons. Others didn't. A red pulse orbiting one of those planets indicated the position of Koridan's fleet.

The Sith Lord rose and crossed the room with quick, powerful strides to tower over this map. He scowled. He was starting to regret sending the bulk of his forces out of the system. With Kornath in charge of torturing the prisoners to force the Jedi out of hiding, Koridan had seen fit to deploy most of his ships and troops to other areas. Like the attack they planned to commence at Endor and Ahch-To. Planets hundreds of light years apart. Koridan planned to strike at two separate Republic installations for two purposes. The first was to send a clear message to the Republic and the Jedi. That the Sith were everywhere. The second reason was to give the Sith two primary bases from which to coordinate a two-pronged invasion of Republic territories.

"My Lord, my droids report the Republic has sent at least three of their Star Destroyers, as well as several dozen cruisers." The monotone voice of the droid cut through Koridan's concentration again. For a second, the Sith saw red as he turned to glare at the droid. That tactical droid simply stared back at him, photoreceptors blank, incapable of conveying emotion.

Koridan sighed and turned back to the holomap. His cold, calculating gaze swept the view before him. In his mind, he analyzed every possible scenario. With the Force, each scenario played in his mind. He could picture the Republic fleet arriving as one massive burst of real-space reversion. Three Star Destroyers in a triangular formation, supported by an escort of cruisers in a diamond surrounding their larger capital ships. What little Intel they had managed to gleam of the Republic strategies during the Mandalorian War indicated this was likely the standard naval formation. But there were other formations. And many places for the fleet to emerge. He had no true way of knowing which the Republic would pick. So he shifted his focus to his own forces.

A tilt of his head separated the large red pulse into dozens of smaller pulses. He had five Imperial-class Star Destroyers, all protected by half a dozen Rage-class Destroyers each. Most likely capable of fending off the Republic fleet.

"Did the analyzing droids get any information on the commander of this fleet?"

The droid cocked its head. Its photoreceptors shifted through a variation of color. It was delving into its databanks, accessing the vast stores of information its advanced memory chip was capable of holding, at speeds only its enhanced processing circuits could.

Without the vast wealth of Republic Intel that awaited them on the surface, everything was a guess. A gamble. And Koridan hated gambles. He preferred clear-cut warfare. Straight and to the point. Of course, after he had prepared the battlefield in his favor. While he waited for the droid's answer, he extended a hand and with his fingers, dragged red blips to positions behind moons and into low orbits.

And what few spy droids he had dispatched to various Republic worlds or into communication beacons had gleaned very little. Having Republic encryption codes would be vital to a swift victory.

"My Lord, I believe the fleet to be under the command of Matthew White. We intercepted encrypted transmissions from Earth to Bothauwai."

Koridan's blood went cold. Matthew White? The Grand Master of the Order? He considered this. Killing the greatest of the Jedi would certainly deal a major blow to the Order's morale. And in the early stages of the invasion that would be vital. Cut off the head and the body will die. He smiled. It was not a pleasant expression.

He pulled out his comlink and dialed a private channel to Kornath. When the assassin answered, Koridan gave him permission to take a full battalion of droids and a squad of Sith grunts to the surface to deal with the Jedi. Kornath's voice held nothing but feral anticipation as he responded with, "It will be done, my lord."

Ayrin sighed and stared at the sprawling landscape. Oh how she was tired of that terrible landscape. Whatever the Sith had done to the world, it was hardly likely that any life would ever grow. For the sake of finding a bright side, she touched the spot on her body where her rib had been broken. The skin had turned a nasty shade of purple. At times, it was hard for her to breath. In all the excitement of repairing the ship, she barely had time for a healing trance. So she slapped bacta patches over the wound and made do, drawing on the Force to sustain herself.

But the Force seemed in flight. Pain boiled from somewhere on the planet. She had no idea what was causing that pain. But it was bad. At times, she could hear screams, could almost feel knives cutting flesh. Electric shocks coursed through something, probably a body. Master Kooru and Master Taria had been forced to project Force shields over the minds of their Padawans to keep them from experiencing the physical side effects of those feelings. It was an especially despicable Force ability, to project the pain of others through the Force to a desired target. And it was starting to take its toll. It had been happening for days.

In this case, the target was the Jedi.

Which was precisely why Ayrin sat atop the rocky mountain peak overlooking their landing zone. Caleb and Maya had gone scouting, cloaked in the Force so that even those closest to them couldn't sense them. Ayrin had no doubt they would discover the cause of this pain. But what could be done? The _Mosquito_ was nearly ready to depart. And she, like Caleb, knew that getting the Intel secured aboard was top priority. At this point, even above saving innocent lives.

"Dinner?" The voice of Fal from behind her startled her from her thoughts. Blushing, she realized she had been too distracted to sense his approach. Some lookout she was.

She stopped. It was very inappropriate for Jedi to berate themselves in such a manner. So she turned, hoisted a smile to greet the Mirialan. "Yes please, Fal." She accepted the heated MRE he handed her and tore into the contents with a fervor driven by hunger she had not realized she felt.

Beside her, Fal took a seat and kept his senses on high alert as he ate. Ayrin mimicked his posture for a moment, then leaned back on a nearby rock. "Status of repairs?"

"Taria and Eelya have nearly restored the ship to operating condition. Jeremy holds position on the other side of our encampment. Droids are everywhere."

"Do we think the spells we cast are weakening?" Ayrin furrowed her brow in concern. The Protection Spell and Cloaking Spell they had cast as a group were strong, and there was little chance of them weakening. But with the mysterious and largely unknown power of the Sith, anything was possible.

Fal shook his head. "No. It will not break unless we break it."

"Which we can't afford to do!"

Years of Jedi training barely managed to prevent both Jedi from leaping to their feet, lightsabers blazing. Caleb and Maya had materialized, seemingly out of nowhere, stepping casually from rock to rock beneath them.

When Ayrin had calmed her racing nerves, and mentally cursed the two Jedi for not announcing their presence, she asked, "Why, Master?"

Caleb sighed heavily. At a closer look, Ayrin noted his exhaustion. Sweat dripped down his nose and ran in rivulets down his neck. He looked like he'd just run a marathon. Which he probably had. Caleb took deep breaths, grabbed a flask of water from his belt and took sips. When he spoke, his voice was collected and calm. As a Jedi should be. "They've found us."

"How?"

"We found their outpost. They had the survivors of the fleet. They were torturing them." Maya looked rather disturbed as she relayed the information. "But somehow they saw us. I guess they have devised some sort of counter against Force cloaks."

Ayrin felt her face drain of color. She didn't need to glance at Fal to know his face had gone paler than usual.

"How many droids?" the Mirialan Master croaked.

"Too many."

Ayrin sensed the Force building as Caleb and Maya drew on it. She felt their rejuvenation. Their power restored itself. Shoulders straightened and breathing grew normal and stable.

"The repairs are not quite yet complete. We will need time." Fal's voice held a note of urgency. More urgency than Ayrin had ever heard in the time she had known him.

Maya nodded grimly and told him, "Caleb, Jeremy, you, your Padawan, Ayrin and I will provide cover. We will fight."

"Understood," Ayrin replied softly. She touched the hilt of her lightsaber. A weapon she had crafted at the age of thirteen. She knew every single groove, every ridge, every line of its aesthetic. The crystal within seemed to hum, filling her with resolve and strength. A sapphire. Such a simple, yet beautiful crystal from the cave on Illum. She couldn't help but wonder if this would be the last time she ignited it. The last time she wielded it in defense of peace and justice.

No matter. If the Force willed her to die here today, she would accept that. No regrets. She had lived a good life. A life full of friends, devoted to her cause. What more could one ask?

Caleb sighed and turned. "Here they come." He pointed. Ayrin followed his finger and her heart nearly stopped. Row after row of bone colored battle droids marched towards them. Each of the spindly droids carried a blaster rifle pointed towards the rocks. Though they could not see the Jedi, their programing forced them to march on. Behind them came larger, bulkier droids with a blue-hued heavy armor and blaster cannons mounted to their wrists.

At the head of this army marched a figure in a dark robe. A being who radiated the Dark Side. With her Force-enhanced sight, Ayrin recognized him at once as the Sith they had fought aboard the freighter. So he had come for a rematch had he? She smirked. The motion of the Sith ceased and he allowed the droids to pass by him. Row after row advanced, seeming to never end until the Sith was swallowed in their ranks.

"Shall we go to meet them?" Caleb asked drily.

"Perhaps invite them over for tea?" Ayrin responded.

Maya rolled her eyes simultaneously with Fal. "Oh I'm sure they would be delighted. We'll sit down and have a nice chat about politics and philosophy."

Ayrin gave the slightly older woman an incredulous glance. "Did you just use the words 'nice chat' and 'politics' in the same sentence?"

Maya suppressed a laugh with difficulty. "Yes, I suppose I did. What was I thinking?"

The two women suppressed laughter while Caleb and Fal exchanged eye rolls. When Maya glanced at the supercilious look on her husband's face, she couldn't help but burst into laughter. That laugh was infectious, and soon enough even Fal was chuckling.

"Ok, ok." Caleb sighed and regretfully recalled their attention to the matter at hand. His hand found the lightsaber at his left hip. "Let's get the others and go." He positioned himself atop another ledge while Fal commed Jeremy and Shia. His words buzzed into and out of Caleb's mind without leaving any trace of their presence. As though he had not spoken. The Jedi Master's mind was focused on the seemingly endless rows of battle droids.

There was only one plan. A full frontal assault. As much as Caleb didn't like it, they couldn't fight them in the rocks. That would reveal the _Mosquito_. He briefly considered hiding until the Republic arrived to rescue them, but quickly dismissed that idea. The Sith would likely find a way to break the Jedi's spell before that happened.

This was it. This was their last stand.

So he stood to his full height. He drew his lightsaber. And the golden blade crackled into existence, illuminating his face far more than the rising sun could.

"Caleb?" Jeremy asked softly. His brother's lightsaber was in his hand.

"May the Force be with us." Caleb's voice was unnaturally calm.

The Jedi flanked him on either side. One by one, lightsabers flared to life. Jeremy's purple blade was a stark contrast to the blue and green of Ayrin, Maya, Fal and Shia. Caleb was the first to leap. He soared through the air, breaking through the boundaries of the Protection Spell easily. At the same moment, he passed through the Cloaking Spell, becoming visible to an army.

Droid blasters opened fire, spitting bolts of crimson light towards the mountain remnants that the Jedi sprang from. With the aid of the Force, he twisted his body through the air, dodging bolt after bolt. His golden blade spun about him, creating a shield of energy that reflected bolts back at the source. Droids fell in smoking, sparking heaps, only to be trampled over by the droid behind it.

The other Jedi mirrored Caleb's action, following him to land in front of the oncoming army. Blasterfire tracked them, a never-ending stream of crimson flashes and explosions. They leapt and spun, maneuvering to cover flanks, pivoting to press each other back to back before springing apart to let blasterfire sizzle through the space where they had occupied previously.

Fal and Shia quickly moved to cover the left flank. Jeremy and Ayrin covered the right flank. Caleb and Maya held the middle ground, sucking up the bulk of the oncoming blasterfire. Once in position, Caleb gave a quick telepathic command. To advance. All six of them surged forward.

The droid lines continued their slow, relentless march to meet the Jedi. Both lines met in a deadly clash. Lightsabers flashed and whirled, carving droids to pieces. The hapless machines shot back, attempting to acquire target locks on the Jedi. But the Jedi were too fast. They were everywhere, leaping over mechanical heads, ducking under arms that held blaster rifles before swinging upwards to sever the arm from the armored torso its joint was connected to. Force blasts sent wave after wave of droids flying back to land in shattered heaps, sometimes landing on their own fellows.

Caleb and Maya fought back to back, carving a deadly circle about them. Their blades hacked apart any droid foolish enough to come within range. A short distance away, Fal and Shia executed the same maneuver. The young Padawan was having noticeable difficulty keeping up with the relentless onslaught. It was likely her first combat mission. How unfortunate that it was likely doomed to be her last.

A quick glance around through the sphere of golden energy told him the Jedi were spreading themselves to thin. They were outnumbered at least a thousand to one. Slice. Nine hundred ninety nine to one. Caleb's blade tore through the arm of one droid. It looked at the smoldering stump, still glowing from the heat of the lightsaber, then up at the Jedi. "I-I-I surrender!" it yelped, holding up its remaining arm to shield its head.

The Jedi Master merely rolled his eyes and spun his blade through a complex arc that severed the head and hand of the droid while simultaneously batting blaster bolts back at a dozen droids at once. The droids fell. Caleb didn't even notice. He was already focused on the next droid. Each motion of his lightsaber brought destruction. His moves held a grace and fluidity that few could match. He and Maya parted, maneuvering through simultaneous Jung Mas that brought them side-to-side once again. Maya's precision almost rivaled his fluidity. She pierced armor, severed limbs, cast Force blasts with pinpoint accuracy to tear blasters away from durasteel fingers.

Jeremy had picked up on their plan without his brother having to inform him. He nudged Ayrin and the two began moving to cover the center's flank. On the other side of the Jedi's carnage, Fal and Shia did the same thing.

The Force shouted a warning. Caleb spun in time to see a cadre of dark-robed warriors enter the fray. They pushed through the lines of droids. With a sigh, he jerked a thumb in their direction. Maya nodded acknowledgement as she slashed the legs off a droid, then spun into a sideswipe that turned five droids into ten halves of droid.

Through the storm of blasterfire and the hum and crackle of lightsaber blades, Caleb heard the sound of nearly a dozen lightsabers igniting. These lightsabers had a distinctly different, almost ominous pitch. Then his vision was obscured by flares of crimson. He brought his blade up to parry each strike as Sith warriors pounced. As he parried another strike, he shifted his grip to bring his blade down, taking the red blade he had locked with his down to the ground. A well placed kick sent the Sith sprawling to the ground.

But before Caleb could deal a finishing blow, two more Sith launched their own attacks. He fell back, giving ground before their strikes. As they wove their deadly dance across the battlefield, he analyzed the situation. Jeremy and Ayrin had moved to intercept another four Sith. One was dead already. The others had assailed Maya, Fal and Shia.

And there were still the droids. The blasterfire had slowed. It wasn't hard to guess why. The battle droids wouldn't dare risk hitting their overlords. Sith leaping in and out of range was sure to hamper their targeting systems. To avoid this, most of the droids simply stopped firing unless they had a clear shot through the swarms of sabers clashing. But it was still a persistent threat, forcing Jedi to divide their attention between parrying oncoming saber strikes and deflecting blaster bolts.

Bit by bit, the Jedi gave ground. It was impossible not to. The swarm of crimson lightsabers around them was too much, the blasterfire too immense.

"Fall back!" Caleb shouted, barely managing to make himself heard over the din. It was their only option. Out in the open they would soon be slaughtered. But in the rocks that he had initially been reluctant to hide in, now he saw a glimmer of a chance. Their only chance to buy time.

While the droid army battled on the surface, their fleet sat in orbit. All five Star Destroyers were arrayed in a triangular formation with their smaller escorts positioned like deadly wings around the capital ships. Each ship was crewed by specially programmed droids with a complement of living officers or Sith.

Even the advanced programming of those droids was too slow to prepare for three bursts of real space reversion that signaled the arrival of three Republic capital ships. Before an alarm could be raised, starfighters were pouring from hangars. Agile craft zipped towards the planet to cover the bombers that followed seconds later. By the time the Sith forces even realized what was happening, dozens of heavy cruisers, light cruisers and destroyers had emerged from light speed. Their own fighters flew in droves like bees rising up to defend their hive and streaked out to meet the oncoming Republic squadrons.

At a word from Admiral Smith, all guns on all ships opened up at once, spitting gouts of turbolaser fire at the Sith fleet. They responded in kind, giving as good as they got. In between the two fleets was a canyon of death. The fleets were the walls of the canyons, the space between a never ending, multicolored zone of death as turbolaser blasts the size of buildings zipped back and forth, accompanied by smaller blasts from laser cannons. Explosions ripped space on all sides, hammering shields, ripping chunks of armor and vaporizing hull plating to expose corridors and rooms to the vacuum of space. Screams of terror were frozen in the throats of victims that were wrenched from their duties and flung through an explosion of flame and debris into space.

The Integrity class heavy cruisers spread apart to put some distance between themselves then swung into the Republic formation. Friendly gunners had been alerted to the maneuver and retargeted whatever ships they could fire on while the heavy cruisers sucked up incoming fire. They passed through the formation and the primary fire zone, their heavy armor mostly intact before swinging back to loop around the Venators. They passed one, then two, then the third. As their bows cleared the starboard side of the Venator on the right flank, their guns opened up, adding their own destruction to the inferno between the two fleets.

Meanwhile the Yorktown cruisers and Enterprise destroyers deployed their full might. They came six strong to each flank, catching the Sith fleet in a pincer movement. Enemy destroyers flew forth to meet them, resulting in a sort of dogfight on each enemy flank. The three Rocketfire heavy cruisers moved forwards to assist while the Venators continued hammering away at the Star Destroyers, forcing them to ignore the smaller cruisers and keep their attention on the main threat.

From the cockpit of his starfighter, Matthew decided it was a rather gutsy move on Admiral Smith's part. His plan had been to attack in full force to keep the Sith occupied long enough for a squadron to break for the surface and rescue the Jedi. So far it seemed to be working, but as explosions continued to tear ships apart, he couldn't help but wonder for how long.

He flipped switches, assessing the new fighter. This new ETA-5 Interceptor was a brand new design, reserved for veteran pilots or Jedi. It was fast and agile, but with light shields and armor. Though Matthew would have preferred to have better shields, this fighter more than made up for it with speed, agility and firepower. The fighter was armed with laser cannons and fire-linked concussion missiles.

"Ready, love?" Sylvia's reassuring, somehow calm voice came through the private channel.

Matthew nodded, then remembered his beloved wife couldn't see him. He thumbed the channel open and said aloud, "Yes. Switching to Clone fighter channel." He spun the dial until he found what he was looking for. "Red Squadron, form up around the gunships. Gunships, head to one twenty one mark six five." There were various replies of, "Copy, Red Leader," or, "Understood," from clone pilots. "Are-Four," he directed to his astromech droid. "Divert all available power to the shields."

The droid whistled a reply and a second later the power readings on his screen changed. Matthew gave the droid a satisfied smile. "Let's go."

He kicked his starfighter into a dive that sent him spiraling towards the nearest Sith ship. A destroyer. Currently engaged in broadside with a Yorktown cruiser identified as the _RSS Venus_. The Sith destroyer's anti-fighter guns locked onto him and sent green bolts of energy his way. Explosions released shock waves that buffeted his controls and threatened to slam his head into the back of his seat.

Sylvia's fighter streaked across his path, her jets leaving a trail of blue ionized gas in her wake. Her cannons hammered and one tower exploded. Just a little less firepower directed their way. Matthew smirked to himself as he opened fire. His cannons ripped a hole in the destroyer's side. He adjusted the angle of his trajectory so that he flew over the cloud of flame and debris and skimmed the surface of the ship so close that the guns couldn't track him. The fighter streaked past the bridge so close that if he had deviated one meter inwards he would have flown right through the transparisteel and ended in a blazing fireball.

He cleared the destroyer and swung down to meet Sylvia's fighter. She was currently streaking towards the rest of Red Squadron. The X-wings had formed a ring around the five gunships. Enemy fighters were rapidly closing from all angles. Matthew hastily thumbed the comm on. "Gold Squadron and Grey Squadron, mark Red Squadron's position. We're going to need reinforcements."

"Copy, Red Leader."

"On your tail, Master White."

The flat, emotionless voices of the Clone commanders managed to reassure him somewhat as he kicked his fighter into a roll that brought him around Sylvia's craft and into firing range of a enemy fighter. His cannons flared and the fighter exploded in a ball of flame. One of the wings flew off and smashed into a fighter that had swerved to avoid the expanding ball of superheated gas that was all that remained of its companion.

Before Matthew could access the private channel he shared with Sylvia's fighter, his threat display chimed a warning. Three remote sensor locks on him. He had less than a second to react. But that was all he needed. No mere human pilot could move fast enough to get out of the way of the laser cannon bursts that tracked his ship. But Matthew was no ordinary human. He was a Jedi. His fighter rotated on its axis until the wings were horizontal, the cockpit sideways, slipping the cannon fire by meters. He banked hard left, putting distance between himself and Sylvia as she did the same in the opposite direction.

Out of the corner of his eye Matthew saw another three starfighters track his wife's ship. Great. Just great. He let himself continue the bank until he had made a three hundred sixty degree loop. Green energy bursts flashed past his cockpit, alerting him to the enemy presence closing fast on his tail. But for now he would ignore that. The only thought going through his head was to help Sylvia. Somewhere, the rational part of his mind whispered that Sylvia was a veteran pilot of numerous battles. More than capable of handling herself. But to Matthew, family was everything. And those three starfighters were threatening that family.

So he gunned the engine and brought his ship racing after Sylvia's. "Sylvia, I'm on your tail."

"And you've got company on YOUR tail, Matt." Her voice was a curious mixture of calmness and apprehension.

"We'll deal with that. For now, bank hard right NOW!" As the words left his lips, Sylvia's fighter went through the exact maneuver, banking hard right. The sudden turn threw off the sensor locks and brought her out of Matthew's firing range for exactly two seconds. Those two seconds was all it took for all three fighters to turn into explosions.

The black and silver starfighter rode through the fireballs with ease. Matthew only had seconds to think before space around him lit up once more. As he swerved and dodged in sharp evasive turns and spirals, he reached through the Force. And in the Force, Sylvia reached to him, showing him the path to take. Up. So he pulled back on the control yoke. The fighter's response was instant. The battle blurred and refocused to obscure his cockpit with the hull of a ship. More specifically, a Republic ship.

"I'm coming around, go under the ship's hull."

Matthew grinned. He knew what Sylvia would do. He followed her instruction. Anti-fighter turrets on the Republic destroyer tracked his pursuers, but they were too slow and the fighters too quick. So Matthew focused his efforts on not dying. A shot clipped his wing, but the energy shields absorbed most of the energy of the shot. The fighter shook and clanged like a gong, nearly knocking him off his trajectory and into a collision with the Republic destroyer. He fought the control yoke and the fighter righted itself in time to clear the hull.

A glance at his navigational display made him grin. One very familiar blip was just now coming over the hull of the ship he had just passed. Its guns opened fire and seconds later the space around Matthew's fighter was explosion free.

"Thanks love. That was cutting it close."

"You're welcome."

Matthew snapped his focus back to the battle. At least eight Republic ships had been destroyed in what was now becoming a mismatched hodgepodge of battling light ships. Approximately seven Sith ships had been destroyed. Fighters swarmed around them like knats. Hundreds of them. X-wings, E-wings, ARC-170s and A-wings mostly on their side, but the occasional support of Y-wings and B-wings. The enemy's fighter squadrons consisted of poorly crafted fighters with ball-shaped cockpits protected by two solar array wings. Some had variations in the wing designs, but they all followed a common design feature. Quantity over quality. And right now, the quantity was matching the Republic force's quality blow for blow.

Ahead of them, and to the left of Matthew's cockpit view, the X-wings of Red Squadron was engaged in a dogfight with at least two dozen of these starfighters. The E-wings of Gold Squadron and the A-wings of Grey Squadron flew in support, cannons blasting enemies into oblivion.

Matthew nudged Sylvia with the Force and they both flew in that direction. Several fighters adjusted their flight paths to meet them, cannons blazing. Both Jedi took evasive action, flying through the storm of fire to pass by the oncoming ships with meters to spare. Then they looped back around, mirroring the Sith fighters. Those fighters were too slow and exploded as the Jedi finished their spiral maneuver to fly wing tip to wing tip into the storm of fighters that comprised their squadron's current dilemma.

"Red Leader!" Admiral Smith's voice came over the comm, sounding close to frantic. "Do you copy?"

"Master White here," Matthew responded, momentarily forgetting that for the duration of the battle he was Red Leader. He grimaced at his mistake, but ignored it.

"Red Leader, we can't hold this battle much longer. You have to break through to the surface now!"

"Understood. Will make our run immediately." Matthew rolled his eyes and muttered barely loud enough for even himself to hear. "Been trying to do that."

Sylvia pulled her fighter forwards so that the nose of her craft was a few meters ahead of his. He didn't mind. Her cannons blared to life, spitting blue energy that vaporized ships. He joined in, carving a path through the battle to the lead gunship. He swerved in front of it and kicked his engines into full. "Squads on me! We're going in."

Fighters hastily rearranged themselves into a defensive screen around the gunships. Red Squadron took the core of the defense, while Gold and Grey Squadrons flew in wide circles around them, picking off any fighter foolish enough to make a run at the gunships.

"Oh no..." Matthew muttered to himself. Directly ahead, one of the Star Destroyers filled his cockpit view with all guns blazing. Turbolaser fire streaked past them to impact against the shields of Republic craft. One random shot blew apart one of the gunships. Matthew sighed. Of course their dogfight had carried them between a Star Destroyer and a Venator. The _Pathfinder_ , to be exact. "All ships, form up on me. We're going in."

"Matt, what's our plan?" Sylvia asked, sounding a little concerned. Her fighter swerved to avoid a massive shot from a turbolaser. It hadn't been aimed at her. But it had come close to hitting.

In answer, Matthew gunned his engine and brought his fighter nose to nose with hers. Then he adjusted his heading so that his craft was on an intercept course with the bow of the Star Destroyer. "Take it port and starboard. You take half the squads starboard. I'll take the rest port." He made sure to say it over the squad channel so that the Clone pilots could hear and understand as well.

His threat display chimed a warning at him. That obnoxious beeping was the only thing he could hear, drowning out the affirmations of pilots acknowledging orders. A group of fighters had locked onto him. Half a second later, cannon fire exploded around him. Controls shook in his hands and for a second he was worried he had been hit. But he hadn't. The shots had come close, glancing off the shields of the fighter.

"Matt!" Sylvia's fighter was streaking to intercept. Matthew followed her, half a second to slow. The next volley slammed into his wing. For what was merely a second, but felt like an eternity, he fought the control yoke while Are-Four fired thrusters and kicked stabilizers into gear. By the time the fighter stabilized, Sylvia and the pilots of Gold Squadron had obliterated the oncoming opponents.

"Sylvia...thanks." That was all Matthew could manage as he tried to get his breathing under control.

From the relief blossoming in the Force, it was enough.

"Red Leader, target coming up!" One of the pilots of Grey Squadron cut in.

He wasn't wrong. The Star Destroyer loomed in front of them, a terrifying harbinger of doom. Its cannons spat green fire in all directions. Behind it, even Antares felt dwarfed by its presence.

"All ships break around it NOW!" Matthew barked. Then he kicked his fighter into a swerve that, if not for Are-Four's quick surge of power to the inertial dampeners, would have plastered him into the side of the cockpit canopy. Behind him, his pilots followed suit. Ships streaked through perfectly timed crisscrossing vectors to thread the sides of the Star Destroyer.

Matthew's threat display lit up again. He sighed. Anti-fighter turrets had detected them and peppered them with fire. Meanwhile all around them, fighters were converging. One popped up in front of him. A quick press of the trigger vaporized the fighter and he flew through the maelstrom of debris and flame. Behind him, other pilots were not so lucky. The enemy craft had managed to pierce both Republic formations and were blasting away with little regard as to what they hit. With little to no room to maneuver, ships could only hope to outfly the oncoming cannon fire.

It rarely worked. Fighters and gunships on both sides of the Star Destroyer lit up in balls of flame, leaving scraps of twisted debris in their wake. Panicked yells filled the comm. Matthew registered this as background noise. All he could do was divert more power to his engines to outrun the three on his tail. They were firing all guns and getting closer to acquiring a lock.

On the other side of the Star Destroyer, Sylvia faced the same problem. Luckily, one of the A-wings managed to swerve just enough to be able to get Sylvia's pursuers in his line of fire. They exploded. Seconds later, the A-wing took a direct hit to its engines and vanished.

Matthew sighed. He had to do something about this. He kicked his damaged fighter up. Up into a storm of fire. The top of the Star Destroyer was where her primary turbolaser batteries were located. At this close range, Matthew had little to no chance of dodging their volleys. But he didn't have to. The second the inferno threatened to engulf him, he pulled back. His pursuers were not so lucky. They were caught by blasts from their own Star Destroyer and disintegrated. Matthew smirked as he brought his ship back into formation.

That smirk was instantly wiped off his face as three fighters took out a gunship. They were down to four now. Matthew grimly calculated odds. From what he could tell, the fighters arrayed against his own formation numbered about the same. The problem was positions. Close to the Star Destroyers hull, they couldn't risk breaking away or they would become easy prey for anti-fighter turrets.

But the enemy didn't have that problem. Anti-fighter turrets wouldn't target them. They could move as freely as they wished. And the ones that had managed to get inside his formation could wreak as much havoc as they liked. His pilots could barely return fire, lest they risk hitting their comrades. The enemy was under no such restraint apparently, Matthew noted as he watched several ships accidentally obliterate their friends while trying to get at an E-Wing on his tactical panel. So many pulsing blips was hard to follow, but the Force helped him process and filter out the irrelevant details to see what mattered.

He switched to a private channel to Sylvia. "Love, we have to do something about those fighters."

"I know, I know!" Sylvia replied. "I was thinking the same thing."

"Have your droid take over flying for a moment. I'll do the same." As Matthew spoke, the E-Wing exploded. He grimaced. The fighters continued their relentless barrage, coming close to hitting another gunship. Just as they were about to score a hit, another E-Wing deliberately swerved into the path of fire as the gunship banked as much as it could dare to the left.

A split second later, all three enemy starfighters exploded. Matthew stared, shocked, before realizing the E-Wing's pilot must have released a torpedo on a delayed fuse. An incredibly risky maneuver given the circumstances, but somehow it had worked.

"Matt, what are you thinking?"

Oh right. He had been telling Sylvia his plan. "Sorry, love. I'm thinking we use the Force."

"To destroy those ships?" Sylvia sounded skeptical. Not that he could blame her. Using the Force to take out so many ships, even those as small as starfighters, was a near-impossible feat. The energy and concentration required was immense.

Matthew nodded, and then remembered that his beloved wife couldn't actually see him. "We can have our droids take over. Sylvia, we can do it. Together we are-"

She cut across him with a sigh. "Far stronger than we could ever be apart. I know. I know, Matthew. Tell me when."

"Are-Four, take over flying. Just do what I was doing and get us to the planet."

The droid whistled a reply that sounded almost confused.

Matthew focused on the Star Destroyer. The aft section was coming up fast. Relief flooded him for a second. Once they passed the Star Destroyer, all that was left to do was get to the planet's surface and find Caleb. He waited. Viewports and on the Star Destroyer's hull flicked past him. Each one represented one meter closer to their goal. Each second brought dozens of those meters behind his starfighter.

And then there was nothing but planet in front of him and the pinpricks of stars in his peripheral vision. The fighter formations merged together, becoming one before splintering apart to deal with pursuing fighters. "NOW!" He opened himself to the Force, feeling its power course through him. He let it pour into him, as though he stood at the base of a pure waterfall. From meters away, he felt Sylvia do the same. He reached for her with his mind, feeling the love between them and felt her reach for him in the Force. From that love, a geyser of power sprang forth, a roaring current joined them, heart, soul and mind. He could sense every one of her thoughts, and she every one of his. He could almost feel the softness of her skin against his own control yoke.

If he had been flying, he wouldn't have dared suggest this maneuver. It was too risky to delve into the Force while flying. But with his trusted astromech droid doing the flying for him, it left the Jedi Master free to tap into the deepest wells of love he could reach. He accepted its power, acknowledged its allure, and released the desire to possess it, as a Jedi should. His power did not control him. He controlled it.

As one, they turned their concentration outwards. The battle filled their minds, explosions, zooming fighters, orders delivered in crisp, military precision from the flat, emotionless voices of Clones, frantic cries for help as overwhelmed pilots exploded in bursts of fire that ended their lives in a mercifully quick fashion.

Sylvia brought that focus to their section of the battle. They could almost see their pilots taking desperate evasive actions, spiraling in loops to both dodge oncoming fire and get at their pursuers. Those pursuers bore the brunt of the Jedi's focus. And their power. One by one, Matthew and Sylvia reached for the fighters. They could feel the lifeless pilots within. Mindless droids incapable of feeling fear at what was about to happen. With the Force, they nudged the molecules of the fighters apart. The molecular bonds were strong, but they were only molecular bonds. Against the very energy that bound all life in the universe together, they stood no chance. Together they were far stronger than they could ever be apart.

An explosion from somewhere behind him told Matthew that their plan was working. He accepted this information and carried on. Another explosion. Then another. And another. Fighters on all sides began bursting apart as though ripped at the seams. He could feel himself weakening fast with every fighter that exploded. Each thrust of the power they unleashed made his head spin and his strength fade. His hands were folded in his lap. He could barely summon enough strength to lift them to reach his control yoke. His breathing was hard and labored.

"Matt..." Sylvia's voice seemed to be so close, yet so far at the same time. As though she was in the cockpit with him, as impossible as that was, and a light year away at the same time.

He took a deep breath to recover himself. "Yeah, love, I'm here. Are you ok?"

"I'm ok now. We did it."

"Knew we could."

"Let's go."

Matthew agreed. He gunned the engine on his fighter, pressing forward into the atmosphere. A blazing sphere of yellow and orange fire surrounded his craft as he began his descent. Heat shields prevented damage, but could not do anything against the buffeting winds. Behind him, Sylvia and the fighter squadrons followed suit. The skies were filled with glowing trails of energy hot enough to burn metal plates from the hulls of starfighters if shielding failed.

The clouds parted, revealing the scorched, ruined world of Antares. What once had been a gorgeous landscape was reduced to barren soil. Matthew stared in shock. His hands shook on the controls. What was he looking at? Shock paralyzed him momentarily. It took decades of training and experience to not let his grip on the control yoke slip.

"All fighters on me." The Force was whispering to him. Experience had taught Matthew to never question that. He adjusted his flight path until he could feel a form of confirmation. As if the Force itself was satisfied that he was going the right way. "Sylvia." A touch of a button switched the comm from squad to private. "We're close."

"Got it." Sylvia's voice was tight with concentration.

Matthew switched back to squad channel. "Gunships prepare to land! We're close." It wasn't just some empty assurance. He could feel it in the Force that the presences of his fellow Jedi were very close. The base of a ruined mountain. The Dark Side was strong here. The Jedi Master opened himself to the Force, letting his senses expand until he felt the danger his friends were fully in. He could feel each stroke of their lightsabers as they met blow after blow from Sith warriors, somehow defying death every time as they were driven back step after step by an unstoppable onslaught of battler droids.

Parry. Block. Duck. Parry. Sidestep. Each motion of his lightsaber intercepted blow after blow from the Sith warriors that seemed to press him from all sides. He spun and whirled, sidestepped and leapt, kicked and parried. Caleb knew his luck was running out fast. The Jedi had managed to disable several Sith warriors in their retreat, but more had pursued them into the rocky terrain at the base of the mountain.

Unable to pursue, the droids had been forced to blast their way through the rocks. The distant sound of an explosion told him that another rock had burst apart. His brow furrowed. This was not good. From the corner of his eye, he could see the droids below him, emotionlessly facing the mountain. The Jedi's besieged position high above them would soon be within firing range and the droids could either take aim at the Jedi or the foundations of the position itself.

He leapt over another precise swipe from the nearest Sith. The swinging scarlet blade missed his boot by centimeters. Caleb twisted his body in the air, lashing out with his foot. The boot connected with the warrior's face and he stumbled back. As Caleb landed, red blades whirled in his peripheral vision. The nearest Sith committed his full body to the strike, swinging with all the power the Dark Side afforded him. His blade slammed into Caleb's gold blade. At the last second, the Jedi Master angled his weapon so that the Sith's blade skittered off and into another red blade as another Sith attempted to lunge at Caleb's blind side. But he was no longer there. He shifted his weight so that he was out of range of the second attacker's lightsaber while reaching out with the Force to blast the first Sith back.

In the second he had to breathe, the weight of the battle settled upon him. His arms felt heavy and sluggish and sweat coated his forehead. He had less than half a second to call upon the Force to rejuvenate his body. Then he raised his lightsaber in a defensive posture and met the Sith's next charge.

From somewhere nearby, Maya and Ayrin fought back to back, parrying blows from seemingly all directions as Sith leapt and spun in a lethal dance around them with the Jedi in the center of a crimson maelstrom. Jeremy, Fal and Shia leapt and twirled about, leading Sith on goose chases around the rocks. A flash of purple later and an arm separated from the Sith that had been pressing him. The crimson lightsaber winked out of existence.

Caleb returned his attention to the two Sith that seemed intent on killing him. His blade flashed and whirled, intercepting their blows. One Sith reached out a hand. Caleb felt the power of the Force wash over him, threatening to sweep him off his feet. He anchored himself in the Force and the wave of power failed to move him more than a few inches. But it was enough to shift the attention of his focus away from warding off their strikes to concentrating his power.

In desperation, he somersaulted through the air. Flashes of scarlet narrowly missed him. The Force flowed through him, traveling down his arm and through his fingertips to blast the nearest warrior back. The second lunged as his fellow tumbled to the ground. Caleb parried his blow in midair then landed atop a rock, still engaged in the bladelock. The Sith shifted his weight, shunting Caleb's lightsaber down to the ground. So the Jedi Master leapt into action, using the hilt of his lightsaber as a fulcrum while he spun his body around, foot connecting with his foe's abdomen.

Before Caleb could dispatch the man, a new sound captured his attention. This sound was different than any other. It was not the clash of lightsaber upon lightsaber, nor the distinctive crack of blasterfire. It was the whine of a starfighter's engine. He risked a glance up to see squadron of starfighters blasting towards them. A pair of ETA-5 Interceptors led groups of X-Wings, E-Wings and A-Wings as they peeled off into strafing runs on the waves of droids that threatened to begin their ascent up to the Jedi's position. The first of the droids had already begun attempting to figure out how to climb, but without much luck.

The first starfighter to open fire was the silver and black Interceptor. Caleb recognized it as Matthew's starfighter. A wide grin threatened to split his face. They were saved.

As the Sith recovered their balance and their will to fight, Caleb dived back into action with renewed vigor. Their blades whirled, clashing left and right as the Sith struggled to pin the Jedi Master. But every time they spun to flank him, he spun aside to force them to engage him head on. Their teamwork was poorly executed, their red blades crisscrossing each other, interfering with the other's strikes and plans. Caleb smirked at them.

Through the Force, he felt elation. Taria and Eelya had the _Mosquito_ up and running. A split second later he heard the roar of the engines and saw the shuttle lift off from its hiding place. The Force nudged him. Run. Now. His response was to leap away from the Sith.

His fellow Jedi seemed to have the same thought. Jeremy slashed one Sith in half then, with the aid of the Force, leapt towards the steadily rising shuttle. Ayrin and Maya jumped after him, with Caleb on his wife's heels. Fal and Shia were close behind.

The Padawan stumbled in mid-leap. Fal turned to realize she had been caught in a Force-grip by a snarling Sith assassin. The same Sith assassin he had dueled on Earth and the freighter. The Jedi's eyes went wide. "NO!" He turned back the way he had come, hurtling with the speed of a bullet towards the Sith.

Caleb heard the yell and turned to see what was happening. "Master Kooru! Don't!"

Fal's plan worked. The Sith released the Padawan to meet the Jedi's furious charge. Red and green blades collided in a shocking display of speed and power. Half a second after the initial meeting, both Force-wielders were hammering into each other for all they were worth. Fal was forced back a step, then another, and another.

A blast from a starfighter's cannon smashed into the rocks, showering Sith warriors in rubble. Some were downed, crushed by debris, but others slashed the rocks apart with their lightsabers. Matthew had noticed what was happening and was trying to save Fal. Droid blasters opened up, spitting green bursts of energy at him and forcing him to break off his strafing run.

Fal spun in a Shun spin, his blade redirecting the Sith's to the side and locked eyes with his Padawan. No words were needed. His gaze pleaded with her to run. Shia nodded, swallowing against the lump in her throat, then ran. Caleb remained motionless, knowing he could do nothing to help Fal, but unwilling to flee until Shia was safely within his ability to protect. As the girl sprinted past him, he raised his lightsaber in salute to Fal.

"Master! Go! Save the Republic! Save the dream!"

Caleb nodded. "I will." He turned and forced his tired legs to carry him to the shuttle. He did not have to look over his shoulder to see Fal channel all his energies into holding off the dozen or so Sith that remained. He seemed to glow in the Force, a powerful presence that staggered their pursuers. Caleb jumped onto the landing ramp and hurried into the shuttle, slamming a fist onto the button to retract the ramp and close the door. Then he finally turned to see Fal take a lethal blow to the chest. His pain radiated in the Force.

The Sith assassin snarled furiously and drew his lightsaber across Fal's chest, twisting violently to pierce the Mirialan's heart and shatter the man's rib cage. Fal sank to his knees, coughing up blood, gagging. His lightsaber slipped from slackening fingers and its brilliant green blade deactivated. As his life faded, he reached out to summon the last reserves of strength he could. A simplistic hilt flew through the air towards the _Mosquito_. Caleb reached out to acquire Fal's last wish.

That lightsaber would not fall into Sith hands. Fal wished it to be buried where he could not be buried. A Jedi's burial. The lightsaber flipped through the air and landed in his outstretched palm.

Fal's body hit the ground with a dull thud. The first Jedi to die at the hands of a Sith Lord. Caleb was, regretfully, very sure that he wouldn't be the last.

As that Sith Lord looked up, locking eyes with the Jedi Master, Caleb could sense the desire for vengeance fueling the Dark Side. His saberstaff flashed as it arced through the air towards him. A nudge of the Force sent the lightsaber spinning away. Caleb thumbed a button and the door slid shut.

"TAKE US OUT!" Without waiting for that command to be followed, he sprinted through the ship to the cockpit. His boots hit the deck with dull, almost clanking thuds. He didn't notice. Engines roared, sending tremors through the ship. The _Mosquito_ pitched and bucked as whoever was at the helm diverted more power to those engines and the ship rocketed up from the mountain in a desperate bid to reach the atmosphere.

Jeremy thumbed the shields to the maximum that he could. "Weapons charging to full. I sense we may need them."

A second later, the tremors of life being lost that bounced through the Force, confirmed that he was right. Caleb exchanged a worried glance with Maya. What was going on beyond the boundaries of the atmosphere, up there in space?

Clouds peeled back, replaced by the grey hulls of ships and the flashes of explosions. Starfighters zipped back and forth, exchanging little streaks of light that vaporized ships on all sides of the _Mosquito's_ canopy.

The comm system warbled. A press of a button later and Matthew's voice filled the cockpit. The Grand Master's tone was tight with concentration and locked away remorse. "Caleb, am I glad to see you!"

"Good to see you to, Matthew." Caleb couldn't help but smile.

"Cut left a few degrees, follow my wing. We're going underneath the nearest Star Destroyer. Switching to clone fighter channels."

Caleb nodded in curt, military fashion, then remembered that Matthew couldn't see him. "Acknowledged." He stole a glance at the helm. Taria didn't return his glance. "You heard the Grand Master. Follow him."

Taria nodded and adjusted the shuttle's course until Matthew's starboard sublight thruster filled the upper left corner.

Over the clone's fighter channel, Matthew began issuing orders. "All ships, full power to your engines. We're making a run right at _Pathfinder_." A pause during which Caleb's eyes widened in surprise. Admiral Smith was here? The Republic had certainly come in full force. It was both a surprise and not a surprise at the same time. "Admiral Smith, we have our people. Standby to receive friendly ships in your starboard bay."

"Acknowledged, Red Leader. We will not be able to drop our shields long, however."

"Admiral Smith, once we clear the Sith's battle formation, my recommendation is to begin pulling our forces back."

"Very well. Initiating Defensive Sweep Epsilon Two."

The hull of the Star Destroyer skimmed past, a menacing specter overhead. Directly ahead revealed the full mayhem of the battle. Light cruisers and destroyers flew in tight formations, blasting away into each other's hulls with turbolasers and laser cannons. Torpedo clusters streaked into collision courses with weapon batteries and engine structures. Heavy cruisers hung back in support before charging forwards, all heavy weapons firing before the ships suddenly broke off their strafing runs and looping around.

Debris of numerous destroyed ships littered flight paths, causing ships from starfighters to heavy cruisers to suddenly break off attack courses. As one, Caleb and Maya reached out to the Force, feeling their way through the battle. Taria's senses joined them. As the pilot, she needed that information the most. To their disappointment, there was no safe path through the firestorm ahead.

Caleb locked a snarl behind his teeth. From a location past the battle, he could make out the shapes of three Venator-class Star Destroyers hammering away. The portside Venator was on fire in several locations. The central Venator, presumably the _Pathfinder_ , was in the best shape, though Caleb was sure that vessel was also badly damaged in many places.

"Grey Squadron, break off and meet the oncoming fighters."

Caleb followed Maya's gaze to a squadron of enemy fighters identical to the kind they had seen when Captain Yates had led her own assault an eternity ago. They flew in tight formation, cannons blazing. The first A-Wings disintegrated into flame and debris. Their fellows broke formation, evading death by inches to fly in lazy spirals to bring the enemy fighters back into firing range. Cannon fire blazed from their laser cannons. Concussion missiles shot through space, their tracking sensors communicating with the propulsion systems to take the missiles spiraling through space to follow their targets before detonating upon contact.

Ayrin sighed heavily. "The peace is gone."

As he watched the carnage unfold in front of them, Caleb was forced to agree. For four years, peace had been restored. The damage done during the recent Mandalorian War had been repaired, the Jedi Order and Republic reformed, cleansed of corruption. And now...

Now explosions rippled through the stars, rending ships apart, killing valiant men and women. Massive capital ships dominated the cockpit canopies of starfighters as those smaller craft zipped back and forth.

A group of ARC-170s flashed past them at a steep vector, pursued by enemy starfighters. Caleb watched as Sylvia tilted her fighter slightly out of formation. Just enough that those fighters entered range of her cannons. Seconds later, those fighters vaporized. The _Mosquito_ punched through that firestorm of debris and vectored sharply away from an oncoming volley. Laserfire missed them by meters and Taria began taking evasive maneuvers that Caleb was sure would pull the shuttle apart. The repairs were rather shaky and a glance at the readout told him they wouldn't hold much longer. He grimaced.

Ahead, the Venators began their slow turn away from the planet. Their turbolasers spat blue energy in crisscrossing vectors that smashed into Star Destroyers. Shields absorbed most of the impact, but some of the impacts punctured armor, unleashing gouts of debris and flame.

Matthew flew so close to those volleys that enemy pursuit dared not attempt to chase him. Sylvia was right behind him, followed by the _Mosquito_ and several LAAT/i gunships, which was followed by the X-Wings of Red Squadron. Gold and Grey Squadrons peeled off in different directions, diversions to allow the _Mosquito_ safe passage.

The Jedi aboard breathed sighs of relief when they saw the _Pathfinder's_ hangar bay door slide open. A glance at the readout confirmed that the shields dropped. They had exactly two minutes and thirteen seconds to get aboard before the _Pathfinder's_ hangar would move out of range of their squadron's trajectory. Any deviation would result in the group smashing headfirst into the hull of the Venator.

"Admiral Smith, we are making our landing run now. Please hold present course."

"We won't be able to hold this position long, Red Leader. Our sensors have picked up enemy target locks on our exposed section."

At that exact moment one of their X-Wings disintegrated. Turbolaser fire from behind lanced forth, happening to catch several of Red Squadron's fighters in massive bursts of energy that left nothing left of the craft.

"All ships, landing formation!" Sylvia's voice came loud and clear over the comm.

Matthew and Sylvia's fighters closed their S-foils and reduced speed. The _Pathfinder_ loomed in front of them, a symbol of the _Republic's_ power and military might. Intimidating, but not menacing, though perhaps that was due to the vessel's status as a friendly ship.

One by one, ships entered the hangar bay, landing at already prepared docking clamps. The _Mosquito_ followed the Jedi's starfighters into the hangar, closely followed by the ships of Red Squadron.

A rumbling sound from all around them indicated the _Pathfinder's_ tachyon drive powering up. Seconds later, the massive ship shook and tremored as the massive craft leapt into light speed. Caleb had no doubt the rest of the fleet had jumped with their flagship.

They had done it. They were safe, with their mission completed. With his adrenaline fading fast, Caleb became acutely aware of how hungry he was. And how tired. His arms felt as though they weighed a kilo each. Another weight on his right hip reminded him of Fal's sacrifice. The Jedi Master glanced at Shia, who was sitting behind the co-pilot, with a blank expression on her face. Caleb guessed she was suffering from shock.

He sighed. The issue of finding a Mirialan Jedi to continue the Padawan's mentorship would have to wait. For now, his legs sagged, unable to continue holding him up. Caleb leaned into the wall and slid down it. His eyes closed.

Following his example, the rest of the Jedi in the cockpit closed their eyes. Most were seated. Nobody spoke. And nobody moved. They simply enjoyed being alive. And they mourned those that had gone to this wretched planet, fought in the battle, and now would never see their friends or families again. It was a rather somber, tired atmosphere.


	9. Chapter 8: Remember The Fallen

**_Chapter 8_**

 ** _Remember the Fallen_**

That was how Matthew and Sylvia found them. Seconds after their starfighter's cool down protocol was complete and their astromech droids hoisted from the sockets in the fighter's wings, the two Jedi leapt from their craft and sprinted across the hangar to the shuttle docked a few spaces away.

Matthew pounded on the airlock door. "Caleb!" When nobody answered, he feared the worst. Had something happened to them? Were they all dead inside the ship? His chest tightened and his breathing hitched at the thought. The Grand Master had to force himself to calm, to make his body cooperate with his will and let logic take over. Neither he, nor Sylvia, had sensed anyone die en route to the _Pathfinder_. He flicked his wrist and the door slid open. "Caleb! Jeremy! Maya!"

Sylvia followed him aboard. He noticed the way her eyes flicked left and right as they made their way through the ship to the cockpit.

"Here," Caleb's tired voice greeted them. The Jedi Master was spread out across the floor. Matthew looked at him, then up to survey the cockpit. Maya, Jeremy, Ayrin, Taria, Shia and Eelya all looked similar to Caleb. Exhausted, wounded, with smudges of grease or singes on their robes and skin.

Sylvia crossed the deck in two strides and offered a hand each to Ayrin and Maya. They accepted and allowed her to pull them to their feet, at which point they both swayed tiredly, almost stumbling into each other. While Sylvia got the rest of the team up and began, in an almost mother-like fashion, to guide them out of the ship, Matthew crouched down in front of Caleb.

Caleb shot him a grin. "We got it."

Matthew breathed a sigh of relief and hauled his old friend up. "You did well."

"Thanks for coming after us."

"Any time."

Medical personnel were waiting for them with stretchers outside the ship. A Clone lieutenant barked orders. Three troopers carrying scanning equipment marched up to each Jedi one by one and ran a scanner over their bodies. Other troops assisted them in walking to the stretchers, were the Jedi were hurriedly rushed to the nearest turbolift.

A presence at his side made a smile grace his own fatigued features. "How you holding up, love?"

Sylvia wrapped her arms around his. "I'm doing fine. You?"

"Never better."  
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"You sure?" She smirked at him, her tone playful. "I had to save you at least twice out there."

"Point being?"

"I think you're starting to get rusty." She laughed as he rolled his eyes pointedly at her.

"I am not."

"Are to."

"Am not."

"Are to."

"I will wake you up early."

She shot him a look. "Not if you know what's good for you, Jedi."

"They both burst into peels of quiet laughter, making a valiant effort to keep their voices down and not disturb the fighter repair crews now swarming the hangar. Several technicians hurried over to the ETA-5 Interceptors and began their routine inspections. Matthew's was, unfortunately, more damaged than Sylvia's.

Both Jedi eventually gained control over their laughter and stood there for a moment or two in the center of the controlled chaos. Then Matthew casually asked, "Dinner? I'll make another pineapple upside-down cake."

Sylvia pretended to consider the idea. "A pineapple upside-down cake? Just for surviving a battle?" She moved one arm around her husband's body and rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Little much, isn't it?" She chuckled at his crestfallen face. "Ok, ok, let's do it!"

Matthew grinned like a little kid.

"But first, bridge. I assume we have to oversee a few things before we retire." The grin slid off his face as his wife let go of him and strode with confidence to the turbolift. "Come on, Matt." She threw one of her dazzling smiles over her shoulder at him. The kind she knew took his breath away. "Let's get to work." 

Even before the hologram of his master flickered into existence, Kornath knew the Sith commander would be in a foul mood. Likely worse than anything he had previously experienced. And he doubted the dead Jedi would be enough to assuage his master's temper.

The miniature form of Koridan glared up at him from the communication device Kornath held in his hand. Kornath himself stood in the ruined planes near the mountain the Jedi had used as a hiding place, a tactic expected of such cowards. As the Assassin opened his mouth, Koridan launched into a furious tirade.

"I gave you as many droids as you requested, and an entire cadre of Sith warriors! How did you manage to fail such a simple task? Let me tell you, because you are a disappointment to your kind. Kornath the Assassin?" He snorted. "Kornath the Incompetent is a much more apt name for you! For the life of me, I can't even begin to imagine why I requested you for this battle group! Perhaps Tal Merack would have been a better candidate. He at least maintains his competency at directing field engagements while maintaining the qualities of a true Sith Assassin."

In retrospect, Kornath knew he should never have interrupted his master. But those words sparked a rage in him. All he saw was a red haze at the mention of his rival. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop him. "You have the guts to call me incompetent when the Jedi broke through your blockade with an inferior force of warships and attacked my forces? I was overrunning the Jedi. They were perhaps a minute away from being slaughtered. And then, all of a sudden, my droids are being wiped out by the very starfighters YOU were supposed to keep off the planet! This failure is not mine Koridan. This defeat falls upon your shoulders." He threw as much of a threatening tone into the words as he dared and glared at the hologram.

As much as he would've liked to continue berating his master, unfortunately, he suddenly found himself unable to breathe. A hand, the one that wasn't holding the communicator, shot to his throat and grabbed desperately. But there was nothing there. The hold over his throat was not physical. It was a Force grip that threatened to crush his entire neck. Kornath almost welcomed it. He accepted the pain and whatever fate Koridan deemed fit for his insubordination.

He found himself falling. He had been unaware that his boots had left the surface of the world and now crumpled into a heap on that ruined world. He heard coughing and spluttering, realized it was him, and gulped in air desperately.

"Do not presume to lecture me again, Assassin." Koridan's voice was coldly menacing and from the way his fingers were curled, Kornath assumed he was ready to draw upon the Force again. "I will allow you to live, but only because Lord Tyrannicus has other uses for you."

Kornath's eyes widened. Tyrannicus? The oldest member of the Dark Council, maintaining order within his territories with an iron fist? What could he want with a mere Assassin?

As if sensing his confusion, Koridan smiled unpleasantly. "He didn't say. I would advise you to report to Ziost quickly, however. He wasn't very pleased when I mentioned your recent setbacks. And I highly doubt he will be impressed by tardiness."

Comprehension blossomed inside Kornath's mind like the explosions that had consumed so many droids today. It left him numb, blank. An empty shell. He had done this. Koridan had set this up. "As you command, Master." The words seemed to come from far away. As if it was not him speaking, but another being with the same voice and speech patterns.

The holographic image faded to nothingness and the communicator slipped from Kornath's numb fingers, leaving the Sith alone with his anger. And his hate. He let it build within him until it burst and exploded out of him in a scream of rage that would have decimated droids if any remained in his vicinity.

Once he had regained mastery of himself, he turned on his heel and stalked away from the battlefield towards his ship. 

From the bridge of the _Pathfinder_ , Sylvia surveyed what she could see out of the many viewports. She had always found the streaks of starlight passing them to be oddly soothing. And while she watched, she could let her mind wander and forget about the current crises, the stress of life, war, and all the trouble looming over their horizon. She could drown out the hum of the _Pathfinder's_ engines as the massive dilithium powered reactors continued to provide enough power to move the massive Star Destroyer at speeds few mathematicians could comprehend.

A new presence joined the living souls she could sense on the bridge. This one was different, more commanding than the crewmen that worked consoles and slaved over the necessary repairs in order to keep the ship running smoothly. She radiated the Force.

Sylvia turned.

Maya Temple casually strode over to where she stood at the front of the bridge, a small smile gracing her lips. "Sylvia."

Sylvia inclined her head politely, returning the smile. She had always liked Maya and always respected her, even if they had never become great friends. "Hey, Maya."

The older Jedi Master looked past her, gazing at the light speed tunnel outside of the viewport. "Peaceful isn't it?"

Sylvia nodded, clasping her hands behind her back. "It is. During the Mandalorian War, I would find a place where I could just look at the stars as we traveled." She made a half-turn so she could keep both Maya and the stars in her sight. "It helped me stay sane." Maya chuckled beside her, no doubt remembering Some of Sylvia's late night walks to ease her mind.

"Does it do so now?"

Honestly, the only answer Sylvia could give was a quiet, "I don't know". Her nerves had long since calmed and the adrenaline of battle had faded, leaving her tired and strained.

A Sith is more formidable than a Mandalorian isn't it?" Maya replied in an understanding tone.

She nodded, then decided to change the subject. "Something you need? You don't usually make social calls."

Maya laughed again. "You know me so well, Sylvia. You're right. Master White has requested your presence."

"Has he now?" Sylvia's eyebrows rose at this. "Why couldn't he just call me on the comlink?"

"He says he misplaced it somewhere."

Of course he had. For all his skill and power, her husband was a dork at times. In some ways, he was still the boy she had met over twenty years ago. She sighed. "Of course he did. Standard briefing room?"

"Yes. He wants all senior Jedi on this ship there. Apparently, he and Admiral Smith are giving their report to Admiral O'Hare."

That was all Sylvia needed to know. She smiled and directed her footsteps towards the turbolift at the far end of the bridge. Heads turned for milliseconds to observe her steps, her fast paced movements. Maya was right on her heels. They made their way through the vessel, entering the briefing room just as a life sized holographic projection of Admiral O'Hare flickered into existence. The hologram joined Matthew, David, Jayln and Caleb around the briefing table, which currently displayed a holomap of Antares with the positions of all Republic and Sith forces at the start of the battle.

"Admiral," Sylvia greeted cordially as she slipped into a human sized space between Matthew and Caleb. She felt Matthew's hand brush hers and opened her palm so he could lace his fingers through hers.

"Master White, Master Temple," the Admiral replied, inclining his head respectfully. He returned his attention to Matthew. "Grand Master, what do you have to report? I trust you bring good news."

There was buoyancy to Matthew's tone that Sylvia hadn't heard in quite some time. "I do indeed, Admiral. The vital military Intel is once again safe and ours. We're en route to Earth now to deliver it to you."

O'Hare almost cracked a smile. "This is indeed very good news." His smile faded, replaced by a somber expression. "What casualties were sustained?"

Before Matthew could answer, David cut in. "Light casualties on most ships. However, twelve of my escort vessels were destroyed with all hands lost."

"And Master Fal Kooru as well," Caleb chimed in.

Beside her, Sylvia felt Matthew flinch slightly at those words. She didn't look at him yet. She knew Fal's death had hit him hard, especially since he'd done all he could to save him. Matthew had been through war and knew that loss was part of war. Something to be expected. But it still managed to wound him whenever one of his Jedi fell in combat. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and felt him relax.

"The Chancellor has already begun planning a memorial service to be held in honor of those who have fallen. I will inform her of these new developments."

In holographic form, the Admiral was hard to read in the Force. But Sylvia didn't need the Force. Republic lives had been lost. The sorrow was evident in O'Hare's face, the way his eyes were slightly downcast.

"Is there anything else you wish to say, Admiral?" Matthew inquired of the hologram. His senses were perhaps slightly sharper than Sylvia's own. He locked eyes with the hologram.

"There is." At a nod, David keyed in a command into the console. The holomap faded, then reformed into a map of the Republic. O'Hare continued speaking. "There have been numerous sightings of Sith ships heading West along the Republic border. Several more outposts have fallen. And we've lost contact with numerous scout and patrol vessels." A pulsing red blip appeared near the Teth system. "This is their last known position."

Matthew studied the blip. Sylvia glanced first at him, then at the map. West. The only targets of significant value that were located west of Teth were the worlds of the Corporate Sector. Her heart shot into her throat. If the Corporate Sector fell the economic power of the Republic would collapse with them. Poverty and starvation would set in. The Republic would be unable to generate wealth and financial stability.

A glance around the room told her that everyone else had come to the exact same conclusion.

"The Corporate Sector." David sighed heavily. "Of course that's what they would go after." His tone held frustration and a sort of resignation. Because he was right. Of course that's what the Sith would go after. They were ruthless and cunning. And likely would know exactly where to best hit the Republic.

"I cannot stress how vital the worlds of the Corporate Sector are to our economic stability. If the Sith are able to launch an attack, the devastation we could find ourselves facing would be immeasurable." O'Hare's voice was tight, with barely controlled fury.

Sylvia studied the holomap carefully. What ran through her mind, she was sure, ran through everyone else's. They were all processing the best possible way to defend the Corporate Sector. Jayln pressed a series of keys on the console, adding a red line. The most likely trajectory for the Sith fleet.

"We've dispatched the Tenth Fleet and Admiral Bando'A. Master Jedi, I would like to request a Jedi task force be dispatched to rendezvous with the fleet."

Matthew nodded, then looked at Caleb. His head tilted quizzically. Caleb's own expression shifted from calm and composed to calculating. They seemed to have some form of silent conversation that the rest of the group wasn't privy to. Then Caleb spoke. "The Masters Kiyomasa and Masamune are most likely available. And they have prior experience in fleet engagements from the last war."

That seemed to please O'Hare. He almost cracked a smile. "I will contact them. I look forward to your return to Earth."

With that, the holoprojection of the Admiral winked out of existence, leaving a tense silence behind them. The weight of the threat they faced seemed to wipe out anything they might have said. Everyone, Jedi or military, contemplated recent events in their own way. Sylvia could tell that Caleb and Maya were still exhausted from their adventures. She herself was tired, but not in a physical sense. The looming war seemed to sap her of her strength, like a storm cloud, tendrils of dark clouds threatening to reach out and block out any light from reaching her, leaving her alone and without hope. With some effort, she remembered her husband next to her and conjured images of her children. Her beloved Jack and Erica. As long as she had them, she would never be alone. That thought was almost enough to bring a smile to her face. It was certainly enough for her to center herself and calm her racing nerves.

Beside her, Matthew leaned over the console, propping himself on his elbows. His blue eyes flickered left and right. She joined him in studying the holomap. He was likely looking for a suitable place to mount a defense of the Corporate Sector. She tilted her head, studying the transparent spheres that represented each world.

"Master Jedi, I have best be attending to the fleet." David's voice cut through her thoughts. She turned her head to acknowledge his words as both Admiral and Captain abruptly turned on their heel and marched towards the exit.

"Admiral, a word please." Matthew was quick to follow David and Jayln out the door. That door hissed shut behind them.

Sylvia sighed. "Caleb, Maya, you should get some rest."

Upon closer inspection, Caleb and Maya had dark circles under their eyes from lack of sleep. And yet they still continued to doggedly fight on against their very bodies in order to keep pace with the strenuous duties that came with being a part of the Jedi Council. As far as she knew, the rest of the Jedi had already been given medical attention and were fed and rested. Only Caleb and Maya had declined, waiting until what they deemed the appropriate moment. "Please rest. You've done enough. You both have."

"I believe you are right." Caleb sighed heavily. It was clear how much he was leaning on the console.

Maya nodded in agreement. "Come on." She helped Caleb stand up straight, then leaned into his shoulder. He half-smiled and turned with her to leave the room. As the door hissed shut behind them, Sylvia turned back to the console. Her eyes scanned each world carefully.

Scipio. Bonadan. Hiit. Ninn. Kail. Her eyes fixated on those worlds in particular. Scipio was the headquarters of the Banking Clan, well defended by their own fleet. Bonadan was probably the richest in raw materials, a strange mixture of growing metal. Sylvia didn't fully understand it. No one really did. But somehow, the metal grew on that world, and several of its moons. Almost like a form of plant life. Miners were able to remove the top layers of the metal, providing most of the Republic's ship building materials.

But that wasn't what interested Sylvia at the moment. The Bonadan system's many planets and moons provided ample opportunities for ambush points and bases. A large force could hold out there indefinitely, long enough for reinforcements to arrive. And without precise knowledge of how to navigate the system, enemy forces could easily be lead into traps and sneak attacks.

The presence of a large enough force would be sure to attract the Sith's attention. As Sylvia had become quite aware of during the last war, the key to laying a successful trap was to first set up an unresistable bait. 

_Nightfall's_ bridge was a bustle of quiet activity. Droids manned consoles with an efficiency that surpassed what any mere human could deliver, with programmed discipline that prevented them from speaking unless absolutely necessary. Operations ran smoothly aboard this monstrous vessel of war. The battle droids that ran the ship had at least some use in their circuitry, even if Koridan would prefer a squadron of Stormtroopers to deploy in combat rather than the bumbling, clanking droids.

Still, it was no matter. The _Nightfall_ ran like a well-oiled machine. Because he demanded it of the officers and living crewers aboard. Extra burdens and punishments for failure were dealt upon them for their failure. Sometimes he wished droids could be punished as effectively, but they could only comprehend what their programming allowed them to comprehend. Anything else was futile. Koridan could only sit in silence and long for the day when the Empire finally saw fit to upgrade the AI they installed into their droid armies.

Koridan's gaze flicked past those bumbling droids to the view outsight the viewport. Two Republic craft executed evasive maneuvers, seemingly desperate to evade the Sith fleet. Numerous Star Destroyers, with _Nightfall_ in the lead, cruised through space. Hundreds of escort ships flanked them, with a half dozen destroyers breaking off to intercept the Republic vessels.

"Alert Captains Raje and Mal'Ar." Koridan's voice was tight and controlled. "I want them to intercept those ships before they can send a transmission to the Republic." His head turned a quarter of an inch to look at a droid manning a console near to him. "Active long range communication jammers."

"Activating long range communication jammers, sir!" the droid called back.

A system beeped. Its light changed color. From the dull grey showing inactive status to a pulsing red dot on the screen. With deft, yet imprecise taps of the panel, the droid increased the size of the dot, indicating the increased zone affected by the communication jammers.

Through the Force, Koridan could sense the mounting fear of the Republic's officers aboard those ships. They were trapped, with no way out. Two against an armada. His lip curled into a sneer. Pathetic. Since he had rejoined his main battle fleet, they had encountered virtually no resistance on their path to the Corporate Sector. A scout ship here or there, an outpost every now and then. Nothing challenging. Nothing to indicate the Republic was going to show any offensive initiative. Koridan would welcome it. He hoped they would come. Seek him out. Try to stop him. He would destroy their ships and bring the skulls of those who dared to face him back to Ziost as trophies. It would teach rivals such as Thren Vari or Qor Van Hell to doubt his worthiness to the Empire. His standing had already been jeopardized by the defeat at Antares. Though Koridan had been careful to leave out certain items when he made his report, it had been unavoidable to admit that the vital Republic Intel had been lost and that the chance to kill several leading members of the Jedi Council had been an utter disaster.

His face tightened into a scowl at the thought of the dispute he had had with Thren Vari and the Dark Council over who should command the invasion fleet before it had been assembled. Before the fleet had been launched, Koridan maintained law and order for Lord Tyrannicus. His ships patrolled the region of space that Tyrannicus was personally responsible for ruling. He dealt with any mutinous Sith who might dare to challenge that rule, or who attempted to take power for themselves by betraying fellow Sith. He subdued insurrections on worlds that dared to resist the Empire. And he, Tal Koridan, had personally overseen the conquering of nearly two-dozen worlds.

What had Vari done in recent memory that was worth any recognition? Did he conquer worlds? The Sith pureblood had once been a formidable force to be reckoned with, renowned for his tactical genius and for having a much more philosophical outlook on combat than most Sith. But surely, that had to be the past. There was no way Vari's career would blossom into fruitfulness any time soon.

No. Victory would belong to Koridan.

As that thought flashed across his mind, bringing waves of anticipation and something resembling excitement, green flashes of light caught his eye. The destroyers that had been dispatched to intercept the Republic ships had commenced the attack. With a precision brought on only by experience, they quickly disabled the Republic vessel's engines and began systematically peppering the craft with cannon fire. Soon, there was nothing left of the ships other than one smoldering husk on the edge of oblivion. The other ship had been destroyed when its reactor overloaded and blasted the ship into oblivion. The turbolasers fell silent.

"Sir, the enemy ship has been disabled. They are attempting to broadcast a distress signal on all Republic frequencies" The droid kept its head down, photoreceptors on its computer.

Koridan's lip curled contemptuously. "There is no mercy here. Destroy that ship."

The order was sent as a quick audio transmission to the destroyers. All at once, green fire lit the stars, spitting its power at the floundering ship. It shuddered one final time, its hull heaving, its aft quarter splintering apart. Then, in a blossom of fire, it exploded.  
p style="margin: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman';"The impact on the Force was small. Little life had been lost. But it was enough. Koridan could feel the tremors, like a pebble thrown into a pond. Darkness. Death. He smiled. /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman';""Helm, resume our course."/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman';"The droids complied silently. With a burst of speed, emNightfall/em jumped to light speed. Death was coming to visit the Corporate Sector. 

It took the battered fleet several days to reach Earth. Twice, they had to drop out of light speed to make emergency repairs to the most heavily damaged ships in the fleet. _RSS Freedom_ , one of the Venators, had sustained major damage to her structural integrity and her weapons systems, nearly flying herself apart upon activating her tachyon drive.

But they did it. The fleet limped out of light speed on the edge of the Sol System. David was hard-pressed to keep a wide smile off his face, but Matthew was sure he saw the corners of the man's lips turn upwards slightly before the Admiral began issuing orders. "Communications, hail Earth! Standard frequencies. Inform them that we have damaged ships in need of repair."

Jayln strode across the bridge, making his way between the crew pits, barking orders. "Alert the orbital docking facilities. Helm, plot a course to Mars. Standard approach vector. Oh, and have a shuttle prepared."

Matthew, Sylvia and Cody watched in silence as the bridge crew carried out their orders. They didn't need to ask to know that most of the 33rd Elite would make for the repair facilities located in orbit at Mars, while the Acclamator and the shuttle would go to Earth to deliver the 212th and the Intel. Jayln half-turned and looked over his shoulder at them. "Master Jedi, Commander, if you'll make your way to the starboard hangar, your shuttle is nearly ready."

Matthew nodded and extended a hand to David. "Admiral, I will be seeing you at the memorial service?"

David nodded curtly and shook Matthew's hand. "I'll be there. And the victory party."

"Victory party?"

David chuckled. "There's always a victory party."

"Ah, yes. That. I've rarely been." Matthew tilted a head as Sylvia suppressed a snort, very aware of the reason why. The two of them had always been less than social, and while they enjoyed the occasional party with their friends and allies, they had usually preferred to celebrate in isolation. Just the two of them.

"Well, perhaps you should arrive at this one." The hint in David's tone told Sylvia that the Admiral wasn't just looking for a drinking buddy. He wanted business.

Her husband had also picked up on that. "We will be there."

"Good. I will be in contact after the party, of that I can assure you. I plan to work with you quite closely for the foreseeable future."

The Admiral smiled grimly and locked eyes with the Jedi Master. "My ships and crews are always be at your disposal. Working with the Jedi is an honor."

Matthew gave a slight bow at the waist, smiled, then turned on his heel and marched to the turbolift. Sylvia and Cody followed him. The door slid open and the three of them filed in. Cody ended up nearest to the control pad and keyed the button for the starboard hangar. The door shut with a hiss.

Silence fell between them, save for the occasional screech of metal as the magnetics that controlled the turbolift pod swerved the turbolift through the elevator shaft, occasionally swerving the pod down a horizontal section of the shaft. Matthew leaned patiently against the wall, his hand laced with Sylvia's. Though he did his best to look straight ahead, his eyes occasionally drifted to the beauty that stood next to him. She was motionless, her eyes closed for a second, then opened.

"Kids will meet us at the hangar."

Matthew nodded. "Good to know. Have they got everything packed?"

Sylvia glanced at him. "I packed this morning remember." He blinked. No. He really didn't. She sighed. "It was while you were on the bridge. After breakfast."

"Right." He fidgeted uncomfortably. "Sorry. I didn't notice."

"It's fine. I know you were busy." She smiled, easing his sudden sense of worry.

Cody grunted beside them. Both Jedi turned to look at him. His expression was hidden behind his white and orange helmet, but from the sense they could read in the Force, the Jedi could tell something was bothering him.

"Commander?" Matthew asked quietly.

Cody remained silent.

"If there's something bothering you, say it."

The turbolift jerked and shifted directions again, jolting them. When the motions of the lift had returned to normal, Cody spoke. "Master White, some of my men are rather discontented with our role in this battle."

Matthew's eyebrows rose. Beside him, Sylvia tilted her head, but remained silent. Her confusion blossomed in the Force before tapering off, controlled like any other emotion. His own confusion met the same fate as he took a deep breath. "How so?"

"You had me prepare my entire legion. And yet, we had little to no part in the battle. A few of my fighter squadrons in support roles." The Clone's fist clenched at his side.

Matthew paused, considering his reply. "Commander, rest assured the presence of your unit was necessary."

"I fail to see how." The flat, expressionless voice served to mask the anger they could feel in the Force.

"Because," Matthew told him, leaning in and dropping his voice a bit, "If the Republic can afford to send an entire army to save a few men, what does that say about our military capability? How many more could we send into a much worse situation?"

He knew that Cody understood by the way his helmet tilted up slightly. "Very good, sir."

Matthew took a step back and took Sylvia's hand once more. "Tell your troops this. That this war is just beginning. And I plan to work with you for the foreseeable future."

Cody nodded, satisfied by this.

The turbolift abruptly came to a halt and the door slid open with a hiss. Cody hung back, allowing the Jedi to exit first and then hurrying after them at a brisk pace. His armored boots clunked on the deck plates behind them, barely distinguishable over the hustle and bustle of hangar activity. Matthew and Sylvia made scarcely a sound as the wound their way to where the Nu-class Attack Shuttle that had been designated to transport them to Earth was waiting. At a glance, Matthew noted its engines were primed and ready to go.

Caleb and Maya stood by the landing ramp. They raised their hands in greeting as Matthew, Sylvia and Cody approached. Matthew smiled. "Hello friends."

"Good morning."

"Is all well?"

Caleb patted the vest pocket of his robes. "The Intel has not left my sight. I'd say all is well."

"Except for Shia," Maya chimed in glumly.

Matthew jerked his head to look at her. "What?" The Mirialan Padawan had kept to herself for most of the voyage back. He had seen her, attempted to offer some form of comfort. To assure her that the loss of Fal Kooru had NOT been her fault. But to no avail. Her physical wounds were easy to fix, but they were nothing compared to the wounds left on her soul. Those, only time and the Force could heal.

"She wants to speak to you once we reach Earth," Maya told him. "From what I could read of her in the Force, I don't think its good news."

Matthew tilted his head, a curious expression on his face. "No. I sense it won't be."

Sylvia suppressed a sigh and half-turned to see the Padawan in question attempting to sneak into the hangar. She moved cautiously, eyes darting left and right as she took one hesitant step after another towards the Jedi gathered at the shuttle's landing ramp. She gave the young girl a welcoming smile and beckoned her over.

The young Mirialan gave a start, as though not expecting to be noticed, and sighed. Her pace picked up, her steps became more brisk. "Masters," she said once she had reached the semi-circle. "I...apologize for my tardiness." She broke off, unsure of what to say next.

"It's quite alright," Sylvia said for all of them. Shia's forlorn expression, the way she kept her arms crossed protectively and the way she refused to meet anyone's eye tore at her heart. She had to resist the urge to wrap her in a hug. She had a feeling that hug might be needed later, when they weren't on the hangar of a Venator.

"Shall we get going?" Caleb mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I do believe we have an appointment with the Chancellor and the Admiralty."

The other Jedi nodded and boarded the shuttle. A clone pilot already aboard closed the hatch behind them and engaged the engines. " _Pathfinder_ , this is Nu Shuttle Two-Two-Three Delta, requesting permission for launch, over?"

There was a quick pause, then another flat, emotionless voice responded. "Shuttle Two-Two-Three-Delta, you are cleared for launch. Safe travels!"

Matthew and Sylvia strapped in next to each other as the shuttle lifted off from the pad and blasted off into space. There were no windows or viewports, leaving the Jedi with no way of knowing how near or far from Earth they were until they heard the voice of the pilot. "Nu Shuttle Two-Two-Three Delta, requesting permission to enter New Coruscant airspace."

"Shuttle Two-Two-Three Delta, state your purpose and cargo."

"Ferrying the survivors of the Antares team to Earth with important information for the Chancellor."

Sylvia's Force-enhanced hearing picked up the elation in the radio operator's voice. "You are cleared for Senatorial Docking Pad Five. The Chancellor will be waiting for you."

The shuttle blasted through the atmosphere, heading towards the massive floating disc that was New Coruscant to land at the designated landing pad. The pilot shut down the shuttle's systems and opened the hatch. "Master Jedi, you are cleared to depart." A landing ramp descended and touched the ground with a clunk. Each Jedi unstrapped themselves from the seats lining the port and starboard walls and made their way off the shuttle.

As promised, the Chancellor and an escort of Clone Troopers led by Commander Wolf was there to greet them.

Sylvia could sense her relief and elation to see them, in stark contrast to Wolf's indifference, behind the professional mask that Natalie wore in public. "Master Jedi, welcome home. I trust you have what you were assigned to retrieve?" Her voice held no trace of warmth. But it was there, barely visible in her eyes.

Caleb proudly stepped forwards and produced the Intel from a pocket in his robes. "As promised, Madam Chancellor." He dropped the data chip into her outstretched palm. Natalie turned and gave the Intel to Wolf, clenched it tightly in his fist as though his life depended on it.

"It was recovered at great cost," Maya said gravely.

Natalie nodded sadly. "The service is at nineteen hundred hours." She sighed. "The families of those lost have been informed."

Sylvia didn't know what to say.

Natalie was the one who broke the silence. "I believe we all have a great deal to do. I will see you this evening?" She looked to Matthew, who nodded slowly. "Then I bid you a good day." With that, she turned on her heel and strode away.

A clatter of rifles being brought to shoulders, and the Clone escort turned in crisp military precision to flank the Chancellor. Wolf shot the Jedi a glance before hurrying after them. 

Funerals were boring, Erica White decided as she watched the procession of funeral caskets. Clone troopers, their armor polished to a shine, marched as the bearers of the caskets, Empty caskets, she knew, because those who died at Antares could not be buried. The funeral procession marched up the side of the river, two long lines of white-armored figures.

Briefly, the thought of what had happened if her mom or dad had been one of those people flashed into her mind and she shuddered. Jack glanced at her, sensing her discomfort, but said nothing and returned his gaze to the funeral.

Because of the Jedi family's prominence in the Republic, they had been granted seats in the Senatorial podium overlooking the Columbia River that had once flowed through the capital of an ancient Earth nation that had flourished before the Republic. Erica supposed that was what she got for having the Grand Master of the Jedi Order as her father. It meant that she, along with her brother, were frequently subjected to grown-up events such as these.

Sometimes Erica wished she wasn't as good as she was at picking up other people's emotions. She had a natural ability with empathy, able to sense other's unshielded emotions. The clones for instance were somber and dedicated. The Chancellor, grim, sad, angry. Her mom and dad felt sad as well. Normally she couldn't sense the feelings of other Jedi, they were too shielded for her young abilities to work through, but her family was different. They were open books to her. And she hated it. She hated the sadness that people dying brought.

As the procession stopped, Commander Wolf barked out orders. The clones lowered the caskets to the ground, next to the empty and stepped back, raising their rifles in salute to the fallen. A pulse of grim emotion radiated from the crowd of Admirals, family members, soldiers, press, Senators and everyone else that had assembled for this funeral. Each emotion, one after the other, battered her mind, staggering her.

"Erica felt a warm hand upon her shoulder and felt her mom's reassuring presence. She loved her parents, but she especially loved her mom's ability to sense when her senses were getting the better of her. She couldn't help but move back a step, sinking into her mom's body. Mom felt warm and safe, canceling out all the negative emotions assaulting her and enabling her to shield her mind. Her breathing became much easier.

"It'll be over soon. Remember kiddo, we're having dinner with Aunt Beth afterwards," Mom murmured, squeezing her daughter's shoulder softly.

If anything could cheer up Erica, it was the promise of seeing their Aunt Beth. She always had tales to tell of things she found on the beach, and oh how she and her brother loved the beach. Those memories were something that Erica, young as she was, knew she would cherish forever.

A loud voice brought her out of those memories. It was Wolf's. "Twenty-one gun salute! FIRE!"

There was a loud bang, and Erica jumped in alarm, clutching her mother's robes. After a second, she looked up and her eyes fell upon her dad's grim face. His emotions spiked, going through a cycle of negativity before quickly being controlled and his mental barriers going up. Erica took that as the signal that he knew she was using her abilities and wanted her to stop. She could easily penetrate the barriers he cast, but took the hint.

Beside her, Jack fidgeted as a new order gave the Clones permission to lower the caskets into the graves. Then they picked up shovels and began piling dirt on top of the caskets, consigning them to the ground.

It didn't take a genius to work out that the silence was getting to him. It was to her as well. Why they had to come to this funeral she would never understand, but whatever. If they had to suffer through it they could do it together. She wondered if she and Jack behaved, they would be permitted to leave before the speeches came.

After a long time of the silence...it felt like centuries when in reality it was long enough for the Clones to finish their work...the Chancellor stepped forwards. Words poured from her mouth, a never ending buzz that Erica tuned out. She spoke of the bravery of the men and women who had died, how their lives had been cut short by the brutality of the Sith and promising to not let their deaths be in vain. That much she paid attention to. Exact words were lost, forgotten to her young mind. But the meaning of some of the words remained and she could not help but ponder them.

Something nagged at her. The Sith. The Sith were powerful, and smart. If they could steal from Earth, the very heart of the Republic, then everyone was in danger. But wasn't it the Jedi's job to stop them? How could they fight what seemed unstoppable?

"Dad?" Her lip trembled and the word came out as a whisper. For a second, she hoped he didn't hear her, but he did anyways and looked at her.

"We'll be done soon ok?"

"That's...not what's bothering me."

Dad's head turned. His expression softened when he saw how worked up she was. He beckoned softly and she moved towards him so he could pull her into a hug. "What's up?" He kept his voice down, ignoring the Senatorial aide who cast him a disapproving look.

"The Sith..."

He tensed in the Force. "What about them?"

Erica thought for a moment, not sure how to phrase her question. "How do we...um...how do..." Her breathing quickened as she realized this would be harder than she had first thought. "Never mind." She hated how quiet her voice sounded...like she wasn't even capable of speaking up for herself.

"Hey no. If it bothers you its important. What is it?" Dad stroked her hair. She had gotten Mom's hair, much to Dad's delight. Sometimes she wished she had Mom's eyes as well. Whatever. Blue eyes were nice, she guessed.

"If the Sith can do this to us...how do we strike back?"

That was clearly not the question Dad had expected. Erica saw him glance up, presumably towards Mom and guessed he was asking her for help. There seemed to be some form of silent communication going on that she was not privy to. Just when she thought she understood the Force, it showed her just how much there was to learn.

"Erica, we'll beat them in the end, you know that right?"

She shook her head.

"We will."

"But...Jedi aren't supposed to kill..."

Dad almost chuckled. "When did I say that?"

Erica blushed and looked down. "I don't know."

"Erica. A Jedi's duty is to preserve life. Sometimes that means when someone rises up to take life, you have to end theirs for the greater good."

"But death diminishes the Force. That's something I know you said." Now that she knew she had him, she felt brave enough to lock eyes with him. Expecting disapproval, she was surprised to see something else in his eyes. It was hard to tell if it was love or happiness, but she didn't mind. Dad wasn't mad at her for asking these questions. Actually, now that she thought about it, he encouraged questions. That made her feel better about herself.

Dad crouched down so he could look her in the eyes without her having to look up at him. He took her hands and smiled. "That is true. All death diminishes the Force. But the Sith pervert the Force. And if we do not destroy them, they will destroy all that we have fought to build. There are hundreds, if not thousands of Sith out there now. If they win, millions, perhaps billions of people will die or be enslaved. Which is better?"

Erica thought about this. Sith were responsible for deaths already. It made sense that if no one stood up to them, they would bully everyone else into doing whatever they wanted. And kill anyone who didn't. Finally she said, "Destroying the Sith?" Her voice cracked and she almost didn't finish her question. But finish it she did.

"And that is why we must fight with every bit of strength in us. Which is exactly what I intend to do. I won't let the Sith touch our family." With that, Dad pulled her into a hug. She hugged him back and smiled. Maybe funerals weren't so bad after all.

Although she was relieved when the Chancellor dismissed the Clone troopers and summoned her escorts. She marched off the podium, radiating calm and suppressed sadness in the Force and the Jedi waited until her entourage had vacated before leaving.

"So. Dominoes?" Dad's eyes sparkled with humor.

"Daaaaaaaaad," Erica and Jack whined simultaneously.

Mom laughed. "Well, Master Jedi, it seems the young ones have spoken." She linked their arms and drew close to him, smirking into his eyes. "I think they like Aunt Beth's cooking more."

This drew excited squeals from Erica and a big grin from Jack.

Dad sighed dramatically and smiled down at the kids. "Fine." His free arm grabbed them and pulled them into the folds of his robes. Mom was quick to snatch Erica for herself. "We can go home and meet our Aunt."

"YAY!"

The family walked towards a parked shuttle bus and stepped on. "St. George Island, Florida," Dad told the pilot, citing the location of their Aunt's residence near the Gulf of Mexico. Erica grinned, thinking of the possibility of diving into the chilled Gulf waters in the morning. She was going to sneak into Mom and Dad's room then jump on them and beg them to go swimming with her and her brother before they headed back to the Praxeum and their studies.

"It'll take at least an hour, got half a dozen stops to make before I can get there." The Rodian spared the lightsabers a glance then raised his head to meet Dad squarely in the eye. "But...Jedi business. Maybe I can try to hurry."

Matthew smiled and tossed him some credit chips. "Much obliged my friend."

The Rodian rolled his eyes and gestured them in.

Jack and Erica hurried to an open seat in the back, passing by many people of varying species. Some Rodians, Weequay, Twi'Leks were recognizable, but others they couldn't make out. They didn't care.

Their parents were much more measured in their movements, settling into seats on the opposite row as their children. Erica overheard snippets of conversation, particularly about the memorial service for Fal Kooru, the Jedi who had died at Antares. Wherever that was. It certainly wasn't a planet she was familiar with.

"Service is at first light," Dad said quietly.

Erica's heart sank. That meant no swimming. Just dinner. She sighed heavily, just loud enough that her parents could hear. They shot her a look before resuming their conversation. Erica just slumped in her seat and remained silent for the rest of the ride, though did manage to perk up when the shuttle slowed to a crawl, then stopped at a small landing pad.

"St. George Island, Florida!"

"That's our que," Dad commented, getting to his feet and offering Mom his arm. "Come on, kids."

Erica was instantly on her feet, pulling her older brother after her and bounding ahead of their parents. All attempts at patience were forgotten as they raced out of the shuttle and right into the arms of their great-Aunt Beth.

"Ah! My lovely neice and nephews!" She beamed, first at the children, then at their parents and embraced Mom and Dad. "So good to see you all."

"Good to see you as well, Aunt Beth," Dad replied, smiling brighter than he had in a long time. "I've seen your reports on the Holonet. Your way with words never ceases to amaze me."

Aunt Beth grinned and smoothed her shirt. "Why thank you. I've always delighted in writing."

"Though, I will express my irritation at your phrasing of the Jedi's recent...complications in the recent crises'." His tone turned hard for a brief second, before resuming the smile that had graced his lips.

Aunt Beth shrugged. "Sorry, Matt. But I have to keep what I tell the public honest."

This prompted an eyeroll from Dad and an aggravated sigh. "I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am. Now, I assume we're all hungry?"

Erica practically bounced on the balls of her feet, squealing, "I am!" over and over until Mom shushed her, reminding her that they were in public and that she was a Jedi. Erica sighed and rolled her eyes.

"We are," Mom answered for them all.

"Well then, right this way," Aunt Beth swept her hand in a gesture behind her. Erica's eyes followed the gesture to the black, open-canopy speeder she had parked in the pad. It was one of only three speeders at the pad. The Jedi family followed the one-time photographer to the speeder and piled in the back seat. Erica and Jack were squashed between Mom and Dad, while Aunt Beth's dogs, Emmie and Gabie, claimed the front passenger seat.

Erica was the second to notice Dad's heightened anxiety upon noting the presence of the dogs. He had never liked them, and only barely tolerated the small puppy Mom kept around their quarters.

"I made cookies. Triple chocolate," Aunt Beth remarked casually, glancing in the rear-view mirror at the two children. She smiled when she saw their eyes light up.

She parked the speeder in the designated parking zone. A single press of a button disabled the speeder's power systems and the doors slid open on either side. Mom got out first, allowing Jack and Erica out. They hurried to get inside, running through the hallway to the back door. Jack reached out with the Force and the door hissed open, revealing the sprawling waters of the Gulf of Mexico before them.

"Kids!" Mom called behind them. "Wait!"

Jack and Erica skidded to a halt in the doorway with identical crestfallen expressions. "But Mom!" they whined.

"Dinner first. Then, if we have time we'll go walk on the beach," Mom said, not unkindly, but with tones of finality.

Dad nodded in agreement, but Aunt Beth merely rolled her eyes. "Why don't we eat on the beach?" Mom opened her mouth to object, but Aunt Beth wouldn't hear it. "Matt, get the picnic blanket. It's in the closet. No not that one." She pointed to a closet opposite the one Dad had been about to open. "That one."

The dogs scampered out the door to the beach. Jack and Erica, needing no further encouragement, followed suit. After all, someone had to look after the dogs. Why not them? They quickly made to act on this logic before Mom could call them back.

While Dad followed, picnic blankets in hand, Mom helped Aunt Beth carry the food through the grass and seaweed to the sandy beach. Little crabs scuttled out of their path, retreating and digging holes in the sand.

While the adults sat down to eat, Jack and Erica ran to the ocean. Ignoring their Jedi attire and their parent's calls to come eat before everything was gone, they splashed and swam with the dogs in the chilly waters. Food was forgotten in the fun and the happy laughter.

Mom couldn't help but smile as she watched and leaned into Dad. They sat together, enjoying each other's company and talking to Aunt Beth well into the night, until thunder rumbled in the distance. Seconds later, a jagged bolt of lightning split the skies, illuminating their faces more clearly than the blade of a lightsaber could. Erica squealed and Jack tensed. The dogs started barking, howling their displeasure at the skies. 

Another lightning bolt turned its wrath upon the Jedi Praxeum, striking the lightning rod at the topmost surface of the Jedi's ancient home. Alone in the Council Chamber, Caleb watched as the storm formed, seeming to grow larger and larger, then hang over their heads like a blanket of darkness. It raged about them, peppering the large windows with rain and buffeting the stone with powerful gusts of wind. Rivulets of water raced each other down the glass. Beyond that, the rain obscured Caleb's view of the lands surrounding the Praxeum, at least until lightning flashed and thunder roared.

Through it all, Caleb remained motionless, with hands clasped behind his back, regarding the view with a stoic expression. The clap of thunder, nor explosion of lightning could do nothing to cause fear in him.

"Terrifying, isn't it?"

Caleb half-turned, regarding his old friend with a wry smile. "We are far too old to be scared of a mere storm, Raymond."

Raymond walked over and stood by Caleb's right side, matching his posture. On the left, Maya did the same. "Amusing. But not what I was referring to."

"I feel it to," Caleb murmured.

The storm would pass in time. But the larger, more imposing darkness that threatened the Republic would not vanish so easily. There was no current of wind, nor lack of moisture that could cause that particular storm to flee from their stars.

No. That dark storm would have to be purged by fire and sword.


	10. Chapter 9: Leviathan

Chapter 9

Leviathan

 _N_ _ightfall_ hung above the world in high orbit, flanked on all side by the Sith armada. This was the last world in the small system they had annexed from the Republic. Koridan was highly disapproving of the fact that this system was of no valuable. No resources of any kind, and very little population to speak of. In fact, the only inhabitants were below them, cowering in their scraps of houses as his armada loomed over them.

It had no resources, but he supposed it would make a good location for an outpost. Koridan spun on his heel, beckoning an officer over. "Have landing ships prepared and a battalion of battle droids. I want this world secured before we move on."

The officer nodded quickly and hurried off to do his lord's bidding. Koridan almost smiled at the terror he felt from the young man. He was clearly fresh from the academy, and unused to serving the Empire in the presence of a Sith Lord.

Koridan relished in that fear, savoring it as he turned back to the viewport. His expression became a glare as he surveyed the world in front of them.

The clack of metal against metal reached his ears and he whirled to face the tactical droid that served as an aide, a lieutenant. Koridan clasped his hands behind his back and stood straight and tall. "Report."

"My lord, a shuttle is approaching. It has requested permission to board."

Koridan wanted to sigh. Why was the droid bothering him with something so trivial? The Force gave him an answer. Kuul Merack. The new assassin had no doubt come even quicker than he had anticipated. A sneer curled his lips. Merack no doubt hoped to impress his new master with his speedy arrival. It had worked, to an extent, but if the reports of his skill were exaggerated, he would meet the same fate as Kornath even quicker than the Sith pureblood himself had. "Kuul Merack is authorized to board. Inform him that he is to report to the bridge as soon as he docks."

"Yes, my lord." The droid bowed out of programmed respect and walked off, its mechanical joints whirring and clicking as it went.

Koridan faced the windows and waited. He took in the whir of droid circuits as they moved about the bridge, the occasional irritated muttering from an officer as they attempted to carry out shipboard duties with the idiotic droids. The Sith Lord couldn't help but sympathize, if only for a moment.

The door hissed open. A cold chill seemed to sweep the bridge, affecting all but the most seasoned of officers. And Koridan himself. He waited, listening closely to the thunk of the new arrival's boots as he approached. A cold smile touched his lips. "Kuul Merack."

"My lord." The assassin said, dropping to one knee. "I await your orders."

Koridan turned slowly, hands clasped regally behind his back and surveyed the Assassin. He wore a black cloak that covered his face. He had the slim build of a human, with the pale skin and yellow eyes common to Sith. The lightsaber on his belt was of simple designs, clearly designed to be functional rather than aesthetic. "In my fleet, speed is paramount. You will complete your assignments sooner than the given time limits. You will complete them to perfection. Error will not be tolerated. Failure is not accepted. Do you understand this, Assassin?"

Kuul Merack nodded. "Yes, my lord."

"Then you will go at once to Senior Commander Signus Varyn. His fleet has been assigned to Endor on an assignment critical to the Empire."

"If it please, I would like to know the details of the assignment?" Merack did not dare meet his master's gaze.

Koridan considered the request. It would do no harm. If anything, Merack would find out when Varyn let him aboard his ship. Koridan reached out in the Force, opening himself to the mass of sound waves bouncing across the bridge. He visualized a bubble around himself and Merack. Sound waves from the outside could pass through, allowing Koridan and Merack to hear the random chatter of officers and droids, but not allowing words or sounds from the two Sith to reach those officers or droids. A snap of Koridan's fingers sent this bubble into existence.

What Merack was about to hear was not for their ears. They were mere officers. Servants of the Sith. They were unworthy of the secrets of the Dark Side.

"The Sith have built a powerful weapon. Varyn's orders are to test it on the Republic world of Endor." Koridan's voice was low and menacing, showing little of the concentration required to project the bubbles. "Endor is the primary source of Republic weapons development and research. If we secure the system, they lose a significant amount of scientists and other great minds. It will also serve as a staging ground from which to launch the second part of our campaign."

"Our campaign?" Merack leaned forward, licking his lips in anticipation.

"My campaign," Koridan corrected. Merack's anticipation did not waver. "Varyn will secure Endor, then continue south along the border, separating the Republic from allies such as Hapes or Eridau. This will divide the Republic's forces, enabling Commander T'Ransen to launch his attack on the Corporate Sector. With two fronts suddenly active, both vital to the safety of the Republic, I fully expect the Admirals and the Jedi," the name was spat with such scorn that Merack almost recoiled, "And the Jedi to divert their attention to combat these threats."

Merack grinned, but held his tongue.

"They will leave Earth vulnerable. And then we will strike."

"My lord, I humbly request that I may be assigned to the strike at Earth." The Assassin bowed his head as though suddenly worried he had overstepped his bounds.

Koridan merely laughed. "All in due time, Assassin. Complete your assignment at Endor, and then it shall be considered."

"What exactly is my assignment?"

"To observe and report both the success of the new weapon and Commander Varyn's handling of it."

Merack nodded hastily. "It will be done, my lord."

"Go." Koridan pointed to the massive set of double doors that marked the entrance to the bridge. "You are dismissed, Assassin."

Merack stood, gave a curt bow, then turned on his heel and strode away. Once he was gone, Koridan effortlessly dissipated the bubble he had been projecting. A faint flicker in the air, and it winked out of existence as though it had never been there at all.

But it had been there. Several officers were trying not to catch the Sith Lord's attention, determined to carry out their tasks with even more vigor than usual. Koridan probed them with the Force, touching their minds, their recent memories. They had noticed him and Merack speaking, but heard nothing of course. They had been confused, and guessed that some important classified workings of the Sith were at play, and decided to not investigate. Clearly, their lives were more valuable than a question that would immediately call for their dismissal, or worse, their execution.

Their confusion would be nothing compared to the Republic's reaction when they found out what and how Endor would meet its gruesome fate. Now that would be a sight to behold. It was a pity he wouldn't be there to see it. It was close to the time that his personal task force would separate from the bulk of the Armada. Two thousand ships would separate from a force of nearly forty thousand vessels and set a course to Earth. The rest of the fleet would head to the Corporate Sector, where they would cripple the Republic's economy in a swift and decisive campaign.

They would have to hurry. Koridan's spies had already picked up reports of the Republic planning to mount a defense of the region. He supposed it was not to be a surprise. It wasn't like he had tried to be subtle in his advance. All he could do was hope that Commander T'Ransen could launch his attack before Republic reinforcements arrived. Or that the famed Sith warlord could contain such reinforcements long enough for Koridan to finish his strike at Earth and rejoin him.

He gave little thought to Varyn. Both T'Ransen and Varyn were renowned military commanders that had served under him for at least half a decade in his campaigns to subdue enemies of the Sith Empire in their side of the galaxy. If T'Ransen counted as his third in command, Varyn was undoubtedly his second-in-command. With another twenty-five thousand warships at his disposal, and the Leviathan, Koridan had no doubt in the Sith Lord's ability to achieve victory.

Caleb sighed as he went over the various reports scattered throughout the desk. Being a senior member of the Jedi Council held great honor. It also, he thought with a scowl, held great boredom. And with the new Sith threat looming, that boredom would only mean an increase to the reports that found their way to his desk.

With another heavy sigh, he began going through them. Kiyomasa and Masamune had sent him a memo to inform him of their availability to assist the Tenth Fleet, and to request the Jedi Alex Argo and three other Knights be assigned with them. Caleb decided to tackle that first, filing through the list of Jedi he felt would best suit the assignment.

The first thing Matthew had done after the funeral service for Fal Kooru had been to issue a recall order. All Jedi, no matter where in the Republic, no matter what task they were attending to, were to return to Earth immediately for reassignment. It made Caleb's stomach churn.

After four years of peace, Jedi Masters, Knights and Padawans were being assigned military roles, with troops and fleets under their commands. Kiyomasa was a likely candidate to assume command of the Second Systems Army, including the 321nd Star Corps with Commander Billuit, and the Tenth Fleet under Admiral Zun Bando'A. Caleb had already been assigned command of the Second Fleet under Admiral Bel Iblis and the Third Systems Army, including the 501st Legion under Commander Rex. Jeremy had been assigned to him as an adjunct and given an engineering division and defense fleet. He was already off to Endor to assist in increased weapons developments. Maya had also been partnered with him, a Senior General in command of the 114th Legion. Raymond and Olivia had been given the Seventh Army, including the 41st Legion under Commander Green and the Third Fleet under Admiral Bwautu, with Ayrin as a field commander. Matthew and Sylvia had taken the Sixth Fleet, under Admiral Gavin Jets and the First Systems Army, including the 212th Legion with Cody. They had also transferred the 33rd Elite to the Sixth Fleet as their personal command battle group.

That was just a few of the assignments Caleb knew of. There were others. Some he would handle himself. Raymond was also assigning Jedi to various military units. Ten Council Masters had received command of entire fleets and armies as High Generals, responsible for overseeing thousands of ships and hundreds of thousands of Clone troopers. Forty Jedi Masters were assigned to these units as Senior Generals, in charge of the various Sector Armies that comprised the Systems Armies, four Sector Armies to one Systems Army. Other Masters and Knights were made Generals, in charge of legions, battalions or task forces. And Padawans were given the rank of Commander, assigned wherever their master was posted, usually with a regiment or division as their primary responsibility.

Caleb sighed. It was a rather difficult task to assign the majority of the thousand or so Jedi that comprised their Order. He had to account for the estimated arrival time of each Jedi, which Jedi were currently in the process of training Padawans, which Jedi were best suited to which command, and many other details. If Raymond wasn't presently engaged in a meeting with the senior staff of the Seventh Army in the Praxeum's briefing room, he would have insisted the Master of the Order lend aid to this project.

As it stood, he was on his own for now.

The Force nudged him, distracting him from his datapads and computer screens. Caleb looked up. There was no one there. No reason for him to be distracted. His brow creased. What was the Force trying to tell him?

The answer to that question hit a second later when the door chimed a soft series of beeps. Someone was here. And, judging from the waves of helplessness and a sense of displacement, he had a suspicion he knew exactly who it was.

"Enter."

He shifted some of the more important datapads behind his primary computer screen as the door hissed open, revealing Shia. She stood in the doorframe, seemingly torn between entering and leaving. Caleb noted that her hands were shaking. Whatever she was here to talk about, it was bad. "Come in," he said kindly.

The girl made her way into the office and stood nervously behind one of the chairs. "Master Temple," she greeted respectfully, inclining her head. "May I speak with you?"

"Were you not to speak to Master White?"

Shia looked down. "The Grand Master is rather busy at the moment."

Caleb pursed his lips, but did not pursue the question. It could be rather daunting for one so young to seek an audience with the head of the Jedi Order, regardless of his kind nature towards the young. In fact, he knew from what Matthew had told him at Fal Kooru's funeral that the Grand Master had tried to speak to Shia on at least one occasion. But she had seemed distant, almost numb.

It seemed that numbness had worn off, replaced by so much anxiety and hopelessness that it made Caleb's heart ache. War was already causing pain. A Jedi's life was a hard one to walk. Pain was a part of it. The actions they took, the men and women they protected. All of this could take a toll on a spirit.

"What do you wish to speak to me about, Shia?"

Shia fidgeted nervously, refusing to meet his eye. She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes. It looked to Caleb like she was fighting some internal battle with herself. As though she was trying to make herself do something hard. And he feared what that might be.

At last, she reached to her belt and plucked the lightsaber off it. She twirled it in her fingers once, gazing at it longingly before placing it solemnly upon Caleb's desk. The Jedi Master could only stare at it.

"Master Temple, you know the Mirialan tradition. A Master finds an apprentice, another Mirialan, and trains that apprentice to Knighthood. That new Master then takes another Mirialan apprentice. And another. And another. In this way, the Mirialan's place in the Order is preserved." She paused to gather breath. Caleb could sense that now was not the time to interrupt her and let her continue. "But no Force sensitive's of my people have been discovered for some time. And," her voice broke off. The girl seemed to choke back tears. "My training was not complete."

An image of Antares flashed through Caleb's mind. "That can be easily remedied, Shia," he told her gently. "You don't have to throw away your entire life." He tried to soothe her mind by sending waves of reassurance through the Force, but his efforts simply bounced off, as though her mind had conjured some great shield that he could not break.

"But my place is not here," Shia replied simply, as though it was a foregone conclusion to her. She had resigned to this belief.

"Then where is it?"

"Truthfully, I cannot say Master."

"Then why don't you stay here?"

"I cannot. I feel the Force calling me elsewhere. I must trust it."

Caleb considered this. The Force worked in mysterious ways. Sometimes it altered destinies and changed lives. If Shia was indeed feeling the call of the Force, he had no right to go against that.

"Very well." He stood up and straightened his robes. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Shia. You are brave and determined. I'm certain you will succeed if the Force wills it."

Something that might have been a smile flashed across the girl's face. "Thank you, Master Temple. I won't forget you. Any of you."

Then the moment was broken. Shia turned to leave. Caleb sighed as he looked at his desk. The lightsaber was still there. It was tradition for a Jedi to turn his or her lightsaber in upon their resignation. But something about this just didn't feel right to him. He picked up the lightsaber and ran his thumb along the ridged handgrip. No. This lightsaber wasn't his.

"Shia. Wait."

She stopped with her hand on the door. "Yes?" Her head turned to look over her shoulder at him.

Caleb walked around his desk and approached her. "You forgot something." He held out the lightsaber.

Shia looked at it in surprise. "I don't understand."

"You made this lightsaber two years ago. It is a part of you. An extension of your being. Take it."

"But tradition..."

"The time for tradition is in the past. With what lies ahead, we will need people to stand up for what is right in this galaxy. And I know that, though you may not see it now, you will do that in your own way."

Shia reluctantly extended her hand and took the lightsaber. "May the Force be with you."

"And with you, Shia."

An invisible forcefield separated him from freedom. A wall of energy, impossible to see unless touched, barred him from the sights, sounds and smells of the outside world. And yet, he was unconcerned. He was right where he needed to be. Right where the Lords of the Sith wanted him to be. He had no need to fear. No need for worries. The assurances for his freedom came from the highest orders of the Sith invasion fleet that was, if everything had gone according to plan, making its way through lightspeed to reach Earth at this very moment.

Of course everything had gone according to plan. The Sith could not fail. Koridan had shown him the power of the Dark Side when he had recruited him on Romulus. K'Hroth had always suspected there had been something different about him. Something special. He had possessed gifts few bounty hunters had. He could see things before they happen, react to changes in battle or circumstance faster. On a few occasions, he had disarmed foes he had needed to take alive before they had been capable of reacting to his presence.

Then Koridan had found him and helped him to hone those gifts. K'Hroth had seen the change in himself. It was as though an inner fire powered him. Drove him. Guided his movements. Few people had faced the blade of the Grand Master and lived to tell the tale. K'Hroth was one of those people. It was that thought that brought a small smirk to his lips. He might never be able to beat the Jedi. But the Jedi would certainly remember him.

K'Hroth glanced at his cellmates. Both of them seemed less assured of their goal than he was. It was evident in their minds. Ever since the trio had been locked away by the Jedi for ramming the speeder into the building so Kornath could attack the outpost, they had been distant. Aloof. There were times when K'Hroth questioned their resolve to the Sith's grand plan.

The youngest of the three, Quen, let out a heavy sigh.

"Don't," K'Hroth snapped.

"I wasn't going to say anything," Quen replied irritably.

"You were about to ask how long until the trial."

Quen shrugged, conceding the point. "Ok. So what if I was?"

"You ask that at least twice a day. I'm sick of it."

"Sorry. It's just, it's frustrating being left to rot here. When's that bloody Sith Lord going to show up and get us out of here?"

No sooner had the question left Quen's lips than K'Hroth caught sight of shadows on the wall opposite there. They were the distinctive silhouettes of clone troopers. As always, the shock troopers that guarded the Republic prison complex carried DC-15 blaster rifles. Set to stun, but could be quickly adjusted to kill if a prison riot were to break out.

"Shut your trap!" he hissed at the younger man.

Quen scowled but obeyed. His eyes seared with anger as they glared at the older man.

"Idiot," the third occupant of the cell, Tycho, snarled, glaring at Quen.

K'Hroth watched the troopers as they marched past the cell. Their helmets turned left and right, checking each cell they passed and he couldn't quite suppress a nervous twitch of his hand when the t-visors of their helmets swiveled in their direction. The helmets focused on them, lingering several heartbeats longer than they had on other cells. K'Hroth swallowed, wondering if the troopers had heard Quen's foolish outburst.

His question was answered a handful of seconds later, when the troopers turned their heads to face front and continued marching. Their boots clacked against the ground, growing quieter and quieter until they couldn't be heard anymore.

"Ten minutes," Tycho, his voice still holding traces of exasperation, commented.

Not that they needed that. They all knew how long it would take for the guards to complete their lap of the detention level.

Out of sync with the normal patrol schedules, more boots clacked against the ground. Four clone troopers, their shoulder pauldrins painted green instead of red like the shock troopers that guarded the prison, marched up to their cell. One of the troopers held up a datapad and entered a command into the pad. The forcefield flickered into existence, then vanished again, this time winking out of existence.

K'Hroth glanced from one trooper to the next, wondering what the odds of him being able to take all four of them. He had the Force, albeit limited. Perhaps, if he could concentrate enough, he could disable two of them with the Force. That would leave two more clones for him to fight. Tycho and Quen would be valuable here, assuming they moved to help.

No. All four clones had blasters leveled against the three of them. K'Hroth couldn't take all four of them. Not with hands clutching triggers, and fingers waiting to pull those triggers.

"Come with us." The lead clone, a Sergeant, beckoned him forward.

K'Hroth stepped forward, not quite crossing the threshold of the cell. Two clones moved to greet him. One slapped stun cuffs on his wrists, then both took one arm, holding tightly. Now he was helpless. Yet he was at ease. All they would do was interrogate him. Again. Like they had done twice already. But their interrogation techniques were inadequate to the task. No clone had the power to break a Force-strengthened mind.

His heart sank when the clones shoved him out of the cell, leaving Tycho and Quen behind. Their indifference could be felt in the Force, not caring. Both of them assumed K'Hroth was in no immediate danger.

That was only because they couldn't see, or sense, the man that awaited the clone escort. A man with long, braided, dark hair, black pants, tunic and robes, and two lightsabers hanging from a black belt. In the Force, K'Hroth could feel many things in him. Light. Dark. The most prominent of what he felt. Curious. He was obviously a Jedi, and a powerful one at that. The Jedi's eyes bore into his. Cold. Emotionless. As though K'Hroth was nothing more than a particularly unpleasant bug that the Jedi had found on the bottom of his boot.

Unlike any Jedi that K'Hroth had ever seen.

Without a word, the Jedi turned on his heel and strode away. He moved quicker than the clones, his robes billowing behind him. The clones quickly shoved K'Hroth after them. He paid no mind to the cells they passed.

His mind was racing.

A Jedi had never interrogated him. Until today. Both of the other times had been standard clone and Intelligence interrogators. But a Jedi might be able to break through K'Hroth's mental barriers. He fought fear, fought panic, determined not to give the Jedi anything to sense that might tip his hand.

If the Jedi knew how afraid he was trying not to be, it would confirm that K'Hroth had been able to keep secrets from the lesser men that had interrogated him, rather than simply knowing nothing about the Sith plans.

He knew more than he should have known. Koridan had let him in on a few more details of the plan to...No. K'Hroth was not going to let his mind go there.

The Jedi's head half-turned, as though he had sensed something. A ripple in his mind as K'Hroth sought to turn his thoughts elsewhere.

A door at the end of a long hallway opened with a soft hiss. The Jedi marched straight toward it and the clones hurried to keep up with him, dragging K'Hroth with them. His leather boots scuffed against the ground and he fought to keep from scowling.

The clone troopers dragged him into an interrogation room and shoved him, none to gently into a chair. The Jedi stepped around a large, grey table in front of the chair. There was a chair opposite K'Hroth, but the Jedi didn't sit down. He stood, staring imposingly at K'Hroth as the clone troopers stood one to each side of him, blaster rifles raised to shoulder guards.

"Whatever you plan to do, get it over with." K'Hroth tried to affect a bored air, the better to mask his growing fear.

This Jedi was not like other Jedi. And it frightened him.

"You will tell me what I want to know."

"I know nothing." The lie came easily, refined by decades of practice. K'Hroth kept his expression neutral.

The Jedi clearly didn't buy it. "You will tell me what I want to know."

"I know nothing."

Again, the Jedi did not buy it. No matter how hard K'Hroth tried to keep his mind blank and his features neutral, the Jedi seemed to just know that it was a lie. K'Hroth knew things. Knew details of Sith plans and operations. Had insight into Koridan's mind. And while the Jedi didn't know how much K'Hroth knew, the Jedi was smart enough to be able to know, or at least guess that K'Hroth had useful information.

"Don't play games, bounty hunter. You and your comrades are responsible for the deaths of Republic citizens and soldiers." A pause, as the Jedi cleared his throat and sucked in a breath. "You are in league with the Sith that seek to invade our space. We know this."

"I am a simple bounty hunter. I make my living going wherever the money goes." That was not, strictly speaking, a lie. It was what K'Hroth used to be. Before the Sith had found him and shown him the power of the Force.

The Jedi smirked, the first change in his expression since the interrogation had started. "And yet, you helped the Sith steal military secrets from us. How much did they pay you for that?"

"Enough."

"Who paid you?"

"One of their commanders."

"The name." It was a demand, plain and simple. The Jedi's voice was layered with power and authority and K'Hroth was sure he saw the tightening of the Jedi's knuckles at his sides. He was losing patience. He repeated the demand, more forcefully, taking half a step towards K'Hroth.

"He didn't mention it." K'Hroth blurted out before he could stop himself. Silently, he cursed his own stupidity. The oldest lie in the book. He dropped his gaze for a second, and then raised it again to meet the Jedi's. What he found chilled him to the bone. The Jedi was glaring daggers at him and K'Hroth could feel the walls beginning to vibrate with power. It was suddenly hard to breathe. The air itself seemed thick with tension and anger.

The tension faded, but the vibrations remained. Even the clones seemed apprehensive about this.

"Dismissed." The Jedi shot the clones a look and jerked his head at the door.

Each clone snapped to attention and marched briskly away as though eager to be out of the room. When the door had closed with another hissing sound, the Jedi returned his steely glare to K'Hroth.

K'Hroth drew in breath, preparing himself for what was next.

Or at least, attempting to. He had no idea what the Jedi would do next. But it clearly wasn't going to be good.

"You will tell me what you know." And the Jedi extended a hand towards him, fingertips splayed like claws waiting to tear him apart. The words hit K'Hroth like a load of bricks. His mind felt foggy. As if he was in a daze. He could barely make out the features of the Jedi in front of him as his vision swam.

It almost seemed to him that the Jedi's request was a reasonable course of action. This Jedi wanted, no, needed to know who had hired him. It would do K'Hroth no harm to reveal that little detail.

No.

As quickly as that thought passed through his mind, some inner defense mechanism caught that treasonous idea and squelched it. He would never tell this Jedi what he wanted to know. Not now. Not ever. He latched onto the strength this defense mechanism had provided and let it flow through his mind, attempting to shield himself from the Jedi's attack.

He experienced a sudden sensation, as though he was falling down a long, black tunnel and his vision nearly faded completely before abruptly returning to normality. K'Hroth could see clearly the Jedi before him, head bowed, eyes closed, hand still outstretched.

And that was when the pain hit.

He heard a scream and knew it was his own. The more K'Hroth tried to resist, the more painful it became. Just when he thought his head might explode from it all, it suddenly stopped. As quickly as the pain had started, it faded, leaving nothing but numbness slowly spreading through his body.

He hadn't seen the Jedi relax his hold and lower his hand to his side, where it remained, crooked slightly so as to be easily raised once more. K'Hroth's breath came in short, ragged pants.

"Force training. You have a strong mind, bounty hunter. And defensive techniques that only a Jedi or Sith could have taught you."

At first, the words seemed to come from far away, as though K'Hroth wasn't all there. But then the reality of the situation hit and his heart sank into his stomach. His resistance hadn't simply been strength of will. It had been backed by the Force.

Even when K'Hroth had tried his hardest, he had still failed in the end. He lowered his head in shame. "Go ahead, Jedi. Kill me. If you don't, he will."

Now, at last, the Jedi sat. His features softened slightly, though not by much. "Who?" he asked in a voice that seemed calmer. More curious than demanding. "Who will?"

"The Sith."

That was all Raymond managed to get out of the bounty hunter. Half an hour passed. The bounty hunter refused to give up any further details. The names, strengths, weaknesses and numbers of the Sith remained unknown. It was incredibly vexing. Raymond felt as though he was on the cusp of some great discovery. The knowledge of the Sith's plans lurked just beyond his reach.

The bounty hunter was a key part of the plan, Raymond was sure of it. Every time the Jedi Master looked at him, he felt a tingle down his spine. A sense of danger mixed with the Dark Side. A poisonous taint in the air. It was impossible to pinpoint how this danger would manifest itself.

But it was real.

And it was coming soon.

Raymond ordered the Clone Troopers he had brought to take the bounty hunter back to his cell, then headed back to the Praxeum. Olivia met him, her smile as warm and loving as always, her presence a constant source of joy and comfort in his life.

Compared to that, Raymond felt emotionally drained. Overwhelmed by setbacks and burdens. A lone man drowning in a sea of troubles. Raymond sat heavily down on the bed and sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Just moving his arm to accomplish those few movements was hard enough. Each limb felt like it weighed a kilo.

He wished he could just fall back into the pillows and sleep until the war ended. But he couldn't. He was Raymond Shearin. A Jedi Master. A man with a family and responsibilities. And no matter how much he might want to, he couldn't run away from that.

"Long day?" Olivia was laying next to him, already under the blankets. She glanced at him, then at her clasped hands and fidgeted.

"One could say that."

"If it helps, Commander Green said to tell you he would handle mobilizing his troops. He'll be ready to ship out in four days."

It didn't really help. Raymond didn't want to think of armies and war. Of paperwork, and deciding which Jedi would command which unit. Of the Masters, assigned to vast armies, several legions strong, and of Knights assigned to Battalions and Divisions. Assigned to what might be, very likely, their deaths. But it was information he could use. And it was one less burden on his plate. So he gave a quick nod of thanks.

"Any idea where we'll be going?" Olivia asked, and Raymond could tell she was fighting to keep emotion out of her voice.

"Not yet. The only front that seems to be about to open is the Corporate Sector. Kiyomasa and Masamune will be there. Not us."

"I assume most of our troops would be deployed to defend strategically important worlds?"

Raymond nodded. "Until the Sith show their full strength, that's the current plan. Hera and Lowbacca have volunteered to deploy troops around the border to the Unknown Regions."

"I can see that being useful. It would hopefully prevent the Sith in the Corporate Sector from getting reinforcements."

"It would, at the very least, stall those reinforcements."

Olivia nodded in agreement, smiling slightly, then frowning. Her eyebrows creased. "We haven't found where Sith space lies have we?"

"No. We suspect that, based on fleet movements and actions, they came from somewhere in the Unknown Regions. Close to the Deep Core."

"If we find their home space, we can take the fight to them."

Raymond smiled. How he would like to. The thought of Sith warriors inside Republic space was sickening. It was horrific. Unthinkable. It was much more preferable to think of Jedi in Sith space, gallantly leading Clones against the Dark Siders. "At the very least, we would know where to deploy our forces."

Olivia sat up fast, her eyes alight with the fire a new idea usually brought. Her lips curled in what was almost a smile and she opened her mouth.

"Matthew is already planning a mission." Raymond deadpanned.

She closed her mouth, visibly deflated. "Wish he wasn't two steps ahead."

"There's still time to volunteer for the assignment," Raymond nudged her leg with his arm and grinned at her. "If you're that desperate to get out of the Praxeum." He laughed when she stuck her tongue out at him.

"I'm not desperate. I just want to do something important. Something worthwhile. Something that will make a difference," she said matter-of-factly. Something in her eyes seemed to die. A light that had been there faded, leaving emptiness and something resembling hopelessness. "Something that will stop the Sith from tearing apart our family the way the Mandalorians did."

Raymond rested a gentle hand on her knee as he turned his full body to face her. She was biting her lip now, and he could see her hands shaking. She seemed so fragile, breakable in that moment. Vulnerability leaked through the suit of armor she always seemed to be clad in. "That won't happen." He reached for her, both physically and through the Force and drew her into an embrace. As his arms encircled her, he touched her mind with the Force, trying to project waves of reassurance. Olivia shook in his arms, then relaxed. Her breathing slowed until it was normal. "Love you," he whispered into her hair.

"Love you to."

Olivia took a deep breath, and then recovered her composure. The suit of armor was back in place. "Sorry, I'm just tired."

"Don't apologize, Liv. We're all worried."

"Me? Worried?" Her laugh shook for a fraction of an instant, and the amusement on her face didn't quite reach her eyes. But it was still a laugh. And it was still a smile.

Raymond smiled back. "Yeah. I'm not worried either, Liv."

"You want to tell Jason and Jaina goodnight?" Liv asked, her eyes darting to the still-open door that lead out of their bedroom and to the small living space the family occupied. Jason and Jaina's room was just past the living room and kitchen, opposite to their parent's room.

Raymond nodded and stood up. "Sure." He shrugged off his flowing black robe and made his way through his home to the door. He let a bounce come into his step, let a smile grace his grim features. And let the love he felt for them flow forth, changing his countenance from burdened Master to loving father. He knocked once, then opened the door.

Jason and Jaina were already laying down. The lights were out. Raymond marveled at how big his youngest children were getting and briefly wondered if they had remembered their homework.

"Dad?" Jaina asked softly, sitting up and glancing his way.

"Hey, kiddo," Raymond moved to sit next to her and she scooted over to make room. "You ok?"

"I'm fine," Jaina replied tiredly. "I'm not tired." Her words were almost lost in a very punctual yawn.

Raymond bent over and kissed her forehead. "Love you."

"Love you to, Dad."

"Good night."

Raymond got up and walked around his daughter's bed to reach his son. Jason was already fast asleep. Raymond bent at the waist and leaned over his son's still form. Jason had inherited his build and some of the features. The lack of freckles and the tan-colored skin being the most prominent. "Good night, Jason." The whisper was just loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough to disturb. "Love you."

Then he left, closing the door behind him and returning to Olivia's side. She curled against him, head on his shoulder and arms around him. Raymond stared at the ceiling and listened to her breathing, noting the rhythm, and the rise and fall of her chest that could be felt next to his own chest.

Tomorrow would bring more challenges. But for now, he allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

Upon reflection, Endor was a beautiful place, especially its forest moon of the same name. Its trees were nearly the height of skyscrapers. The Ewoks were irritatingly willing to capture and attempt to eat strangers, but they were really nothing more than cute and cuddly teddy bears once you got to know them. Cute and cuddly teddy bears with spears and stones, that is. Taria chuckled.

Eelya, much more serious-minded, shot her a look. "Master. What do you find amusing?"

Taria glanced at her. "Ewoks."

The younger Twi'Lek rolled her eyes and checked the sensor readings. "Reaching Endor in two minutes." She looked around the small shuttle craft. It was quite well built, like all Republic ships and equipped with a high power shield generator. It could take a pounding and the three laser cannons at the front could deliver a pounding as well. The shuttle was also very maneuverable.

"Fine, fine. Transmit standard comm frequencies to Endor Research Station." The young Knight sounded almost bored and had even kicked her feet back, leaning back in her chair with her boots propped on the joystick. Fortunately the course was locked in, otherwise the shuttle would be executing a random sequence of evasive maneuvers more likely to transfer lunch from stomachs to mouths.

The Padawan transmitted the codes, waited, and then received the acknowledgement codes. "We are cleared for landing at Hangar Seven."

"Understood."

The seconds on the clock ticked by as the ship got closer and closer to its destination. Taria was looking forward to spending time with the Ewoks if she could find time to escape from the boredom of supervising weapons researchers. Scientists stationed at Endor were among the highest respected weapons specialists in the entire Republic, responsible for most of the weapons that had won them the Mandalorian Wars. Since then, most weapons had been retired and development had slowed, but with the recent arrival of the Sith, there had been talk of ramping up production and research of new weapons technology.

An insistent beeping brought her out of her reverie. Before she could take a look, Eelya flipped the switch and surveyed the message. Her face drained of color. "Master..." Her voice was quiet, the only word she was capable of uttering bringing her master to see. Taria's eyes widened in shock. "No!"

The message read: UNDER ATTACK. DO NOT APPROACH. A few possibilities flashed through the two Jedi's minds before they settled on the obvious option as one. Sith.

"Red alert. Charge weapons and shields."

"We can't raise shields or fire while at lightspeed, Master," Eelya reminded her respectfully. "Raising shields will destabilize the tachyon field and force us to decelerate."

"I'm aware of that," Taria snapped. "We're going to come out of lightspeed ready for a fight so help me!"

That shushed the Padawan and she hastened to carry out her orders. Her fingers flew over the controls for the shields and weapons before rechecking the comms. A distress call had been issued on all frequencies. Whatever was happening on Endor was bad. Very bad.

"Dropping out of lightspeed in five...four...three...two...one...now." She pulled the lever back, beginning the deceleration process. Stars became pinpricks of light against the blackness of space. Directly in front of them was the Endor system, the gas giant and the forest moon of Endor. Starbases were scattered throughout the orbits of both the gas giant and Endor. But what caught the eye of both Jedi was the massive...thing gliding towards the central command base.

It was a massive creature, with deep red leathery skin, a massive bulbous face with a hundred yellow eyes of varying sizes. The general shape was that of a whale, with torn fins that pulsed and flexed, propelling the thing through space. It was easily twice the size of the base.

"What. Is. That?" Eelya looked shocked and terrified. This creature was so horrifying that her first instinct was to turn and run. Taria could feel her trying to calm herself, trying to reach out with the Force. Her breathing quickened and her hands shook. The Dark Side energies radiating from the creature didn't help either. If anything, they undermined her efforts further.

"Eelya. Eelya." Taria shook her gently. Somehow she had drawn on the Force to calm herself. "Focus young one. We are in grave danger."

Eelya shook herself, struggling to focus. Danger. They were in danger. She looked around frantically, attempting to pull herself together. Taria snapped off an order to raise shields. Eelya reached for a console, her fingers moving sluggishly on the keyboard and the ship hummed satisfactorily in response. Power transferred from system to system, flowing into the energy shield that would hopefully protect them.

The Endor base began launching starfighters. E-wings and X-wings streaked towards the massive creative. Without any hesitation, they opened fire, their laser blasts peppering the thick, leathery skin of the creative, which ignored the hits. One explosion after another rippled against the surface, but accomplished nothing.

"Master?"

"If they can't stop it, neither can we." Taria peered through the sensor scope, studying the creature with interest before raising her eyes to look at it through the cockpit.

On the radar, multiple blips started appearing. The first wave was a triangular formation of the destroyers they had faced at Antares. Immediately following that wave were larger cruisers and then massive, wedge-shaped craft. Star Destroyers. "Sith armada!" Taria was instantly coming about and setting a course as far away from Endor as possible. "Divert all available power to the engines we have to outrun them!"

Starfighters identical to the ones from Antares were launched from hangars, like a cloud of insects that bubbled out form the fleet become converging into one large formation.

"The fighters are coming after us. So are the smaller cruisers," Eelya reported.

In response, Taria diverted more power to the engines. The shuttle was straining now, the intense power of the engines now threatening to tear the nacelles apart if they went any faster. And yet, the Sith still closed in. The Jedi could sense the Dark Side from the bridges of vessels, not to mention from the creature. But not only that, there was a familiarity to it. Like they had seen it or sensed it before.

A laser blast flashed past the cockpit, jolting Taria out of her near-reverie state. Pushing all thoughts of the creature out of her head to deal with later, she focused on evading the oncoming horde of laser fire. At least a squadron of fighters was closing fast from all sides, cutting off escape routes and forcing them to maintain a straight course. But of course, maintaining a straight course would result in death. Unless the tachyon drive finished its recharge cycle in the next few seconds they were dead.

Before they could get far there was a massive shockwave behind them that threw them into a tumble. Consoles exploded, bulkheads ruptured, smoke filled the cockpit. The Jedi coughed. Taria struggled to right the ship, eventually managing it but by now it was too late.

"Master! The creature is coming after us!" The Padawan's voice was nearing panic. Unbecoming of a Jedi, but hardly the most pressing issue at the moment, as she was quite correct. The thing had somehow managed to blow apart the stations, littering Endor's orbit with debris. Now it turned its attention to them, and in a surge of Force speed was closing in on them. It's huge mouth opened to reveal a gaping maw filled with rows of large, sharp teeth.

The shuttle jolted to a halt. Taria flipped switches and pressed buttons, nearing panic herself. When her instruments and panels revealed nothing, she reached out with the Force. Then it hit her. The creature had them in a massive Force grip. Taria struggled with the controls, trying to free the wounded craft but it was impossible.

Fighters streaked past the cockpit before coming about to face the shuttle with guns blazing. Green laser blasts slammed into the ship, ripping one of the engine nacelles free and launching its smoking, sparking pieces into space. The shuttle bucked and rocked. Sparks flashed from exploding consoles and both Jedi ducked, shielding their faces.

By the time the explosions had died out enough to allow the Jedi to safely uncover their eyes, all they could see was the creature's mouth closing on them, rows of jagged teeth racing towards them at alarming speeds. Taria fought the urge to swallow nervously as she held her head high. She would not let her final moments be one of cowardice.

A second later, Eelya's head rose. Taria could see the fear on her apprentice's face, and was all the more impressed when the Twi'Lek girl managed a smile. "We are one with the Force," she whispered.

"And the Force is with us."

The teeth ripped through the shuttle, tearing it and the Jedi apart before spitting the saliva-covered debris back into space.

In the dead of night, a man was startled awake. Years of training stopped him from panicking in the moment sleep was ripped from him, leaving him wide-awake and staring at the ceiling. For the briefest of moments, Matthew wondered where he was.

The weight and warmth next to him served to remind him that he was safely in the Praxeum with his wife next to him. Sylvia shifted slightly. Matthew looked at her, then at the alarm clock on the nightstand. One thirty four in the morning. He sighed and looked at the ceiling.

He turned his thoughts to what had woken him. The dream had been filled with chaos. Death. Darkness. He had been on a space station in the far reaches of space. That much he remembered. Matthew focused on that detail, bringing it to the forefront of his mind.

A command center. People scrambling to stations. Commanders in Republic uniforms barking orders. The panic in the room could still be felt even through the memories of the dream.

Matthew focused on the view of the planet visible in the viewscreen. A large, orange gas giant with a lush, green moon in its orbit. He recognized the planet at once. Endor. The heart of the Republic's weapon experimentation.

Sith battleships emerged from lightspeed. Star Destroyers and larger Dreadnaughts came first, with smaller escort cruisers and light destroyers taking up flanking and escort positions. They arrayed in an attack vector, bearing down on the station. Matthew watched as the Republic officers frantically scrambled fighters and readied cannons.

But this wasn't it. This wasn't what had awoken him. Matthew watched, focused intently on the creature, massive and evil, that had come into view. It emerged from behind one of the Star Destroyers, its pulsing fins propelling it ahead of the Sith formation. It set its large, glowing eyes on the station and charged it, ramming into it.

There was nothing after that for him to remember.

Matthew had a sinking feeling that this was no dream. It had felt too real. The detail, the panic, everything. Something terrible had happened at Endor. No matter how hard he tried, sleep eluded him after that. It had to have been five in the morning when his mind finally quieted and he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
